Five Thousand Reasons To Try
by TheGirlWhoWouldn'tGrowUp
Summary: It's a fine life carryin' the banner, at least it was until Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst raised the price of the papes for the newsies. Follow Mush, Spot, David, and some feisty newsgirls as they stop "The World" and discover that they really have 5,000 reasons to try.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: If this story and the characters look familiar to you then you probably read it when I first published it back in 2012. I took it down after a while but now I'm back! Don't worry I'm not stealing anyone's content except my own =) There may be a few continuity errors in this story. I didn't really save any of the published chapters from the original so I had to resurrect most of the rough drafts from some old emails I sent to myself. If something confuses you just let me know and I'll fix it!**

* * *

"WAKE UP!" Mr. Kloppman yelled, followed by the groans of a hundred of so drowsy boys. "When you've gotta get up, you gotta get up!" He walked down the long row of bunk beds, "Skittery!..." calling out the sleeping boys' names as he went. "Boots!... Crutchy!..." It was just another day for the newsies; waking up before sunrise never got any easier. "...Racetrack!...Snipeshooter!..." Kloppman started smacking the few that were still slumbering. "Hey! Mush!"

"No, Marianne, I didn't mean it!" Mush said sitting up abruptly from his dream. The other boys and Kloppman laughed.

"Marianne's a new name, when'd you meet her?" asked Jack "Cowboy" Kelly, just waking up.

"Last night at central park," Mush said, "we walked around for a while and it was all goin' fine until she realized I didn't have any money to take her out to dinner."

Jack and all of the other boys laughed. Mush was handsome, tall, and muscular with dark, curly hair and brown eyes. He was always chasing girls, which is how he got his name. Unfortunately, he didn't have the best luck when it came to girls but that never stopped him, he was a hopeless romantic. "Hey, I don't see any a' you with anyone lately." Mush said. That shut everyone up.

Mush quickly got ready for the day. If he was late, there wouldn't be any papers left. If there weren't any papers left, he wouldn't make any money. And if he didn't make any money, he would starve for the night. The other newsies loved him like a brother but they didn't have enough money to buy dinner for themselves, never mind him.

Before leaving the lodging house, Mush took out one of his only possessions, a black, leather-bound Bible with a cross painted in gold on the cover. The Bible was given to him by the nuns who took him to the lodging house. Inside he kept a family portrait, a photograph of his mother, father, and his sister and cousin, Roselia. Roselia's parents had died when she and Mush were 4 years old. Her aunt and uncle were her only family, and so they adopted her. Mush held back tears looking at the picture. His parents had died almost 8 years ago. And he hadn't seen Rosie since, either.

"Hurry up, Mush!" called Jack, running out the door.

Mush followed him and the rest of the boys out. Within 10 minutes of leaving the lodging house, the Delancy Brothers started trouble with Jack again.

Mush was in the middle of watching Jack soak them when he heard the sound of leaves rustling in the tree behind him. The strange thing was, it wasn't windy at all. Mush walked under the tree and peered into the lower branches to see if someone was hiding when he heard Jack ring the circulation bell.

"Come on, slowpoke!" Crutchy yelled over his shoulder. Mush laughed. For a crip, Crutchy was a fast one.

* * *

Spark exhaled as the boy who was standing under the tree left. He had almost seen her and although she was in disguise, she wasn't ready to be seen. She blushed for a second. He was kind of cute. He had a nice smile. But as quickly as those thoughts popped into her head, she pushed them away. She had work to do.

When the coast was clear, Spark swung from the branch and jumped out of the tree. She needed to find a better hiding place so she could get a look at these boys. Spark was one of the "birds", appropriately named for their skill navigating the trees and other impossible places, and vanishing without a trace. Birds were spies, usually from Brooklyn, under the command of Spot Conlon, the king of Brooklyn. Spot was the most famous and imposing newsie in all of New York. And he liked to keep it that way. That's why he sent out the birds, to keep an eye on the competition.

Spark gathered up her newspaper bag and ran down the street, opposite of the circulation building. Something about that boy gave her a feeling. Spark couldn't tell what, but it seemed like something was changing.

* * *

The day started out pretty much the same as any other day for the newsies. The only difference was the addition of two new boys to Jack's group, David and Les Jacobs. Jack handed Mush his heavy stack of one hundred papes so he could educate these two on how to be newsies.

"...We sell together, we split 70/30. Plus, you get the benefit of observing me, no-charge." said Jack. He was very persuasive and very manipulative, but Mush had to agree with Crutchy when he told David that watching Jack work would be the chance of a life-time, at least for a newsie. Jack Kelly was the best.

Jack and the other newsies finally wore David down until he agreed to sell with Jack. Any one of them would have jumped on that offer.

"You only took 20 papes. Why?" Jack asked David as they exited the circulation gates.

"Bad headline."

Mush and several other newsies shook their heads. They knew exactly what Jack would say next.

"Now that's the first thing you gotta learn: headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes. You know, we're what holds this town together. Without newsies, nobody knows nothing."

Mush was about to say something when a girl walked by. He and all the other newsies took off their hats.

"I'm in heaven!" he said. The girl giggled as she passed him. He stood there, watching her back as she walked the other way.

Specs's voice snapped him back to the moment, "Baby born with three heads!"

"Extra, extra!" Mush called, splitting from the crowd as he walked through Broadway.

At this hour businessmen would be setting off for work and they always wanted to know how their stocks were doing. He was lucky to be selling "The World". It was one of the most popular newspapers in New York, right up there with William Randolph Hearst's "New York Journal". Hearst and Pulitzer were always competing to sell more papers which made it easier for the newsies. They got good headlines. Mush smiled to himself, remembering what Jack was saying to David as he passed them earlier: "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes." Mush headed toward his favorite selling spot: Central Park.

* * *

Spark looked out from her new tree, very proud of herself. It was a nice spot and she could always come down to sell papers right underneath if she wanted. Central park was a place she frequented on days Spot sent her to Manhattan. It was her favorite place. Most of the girls preferred to stay by the theaters on the White Way. But to Spark, Central Park had more possibilities. They didn't have anything like it in Brooklyn (Spot would kill her for saying something like that).

Spark had to suppress a gasp. The boy who had noticed her earlier was now standing under her tree. She froze; hopefully he would be on his way in a few minutes. She got a better look at him. He had dark, curly hair and he looked particularly muscular. Spark nearly swooned; she fell out of the tree.

* * *

Mush was standing under a tree, minding his own business, when all of the sudden, he was on the ground. And someone else was on top of him. He pulled himself out from underneath the person and stood up to assess the situation.

The person was a girl. She looked near his age. She had blonde hair (falling out from under her hat, as if she had tucked it under as she tried to pass for a boy), and her sparkly blue eyes were wide. She was wearing a blue shirt and a black vest and black trousers. The blue cloth intensified the color of her eyes. He reached out his hand to help her up. She stared up at him for a moment.

"Are you ok, Miss?" Mush was a little taken with this girl. She really was very pretty. She actually reminded him a bit of Roselia, but Rosie had unmistakably green eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine." Spark said finally, with a shaky smile as the boy helped her up.

"What were you doin' in that tree?" he asked.

"Oh, um... I was just- staking out a good spot. You know, to sell papes." Spark broke her gaze with the boy's big brown eyes. He seemed to accept her response and began stuffing her bag with the newspapers she had dropped from the fall. He completely ignored his own papers, which were in danger of blowing away.

"I've never heard of a newsie staking out spots from a tree." The boy said. Spark bit her lip, he was on to her. She wasn't the best bird Spot had but she'd never been caught. Only the Brooklyn newsies knew who she was most of the time.

"It's a good idea, Miss, girls always have good ideas." The boy flashed her an adorable smile. Spark felt her stomach fill with butterflies. "I'm Mush, by the way." He said, extending his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Spark." She said, allowing him to help her up again.

"Good mornin', Spark. Are you new to Manhattan? I don't think I've seen you here before although something about you looks familiar." He leaned in to study her face closer. Spark took a step back.

"I'm not really new. I've been to Manhattan many times. I'm, um, kind of a gypsy. I go wherever I want whenever I want." Not exactly true. Actually, it couldn't have been much farther, but Mush bought it. Spark would have to thank Chase later for her cover story.

"You're not tied down to any place in particular?" Mush almost looked disappointed.

"It's not that," Spark said, smiling so he would smile back. "I've just fallen in love with a lot of places and I can't decide which one I like best."

"Well, alright then." Mush said, his smile slowly coming back. "I'd give you some sellin' advice, Miss Spark, but it sounds like you know what you're doin'."

Spark felt herself start to blush again. She looked down to pick up her bag, hoping Mush wouldn't notice.

"Thanks, Mush." She said turning. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow.

"Any time." He said. "I'll be here." Mush stood there and watched her leave, just like he had done earlier that morning with the other girl, but this time it was different. Spark was a fascinating girl.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is the first morning in a long time that you haven't obsessed over some girl." said Kid Blink, one of Mush's best friends the next day. "Are you sick?"

Mush punched him in the arm in response. The truth was, he had been thinking about Spark all day yesterday. He was so lost in his thoughts.

"Maybe he actually found true love," Jack said, sarcastically. "and he's trying to keep it a secret."

"True love doesn't exist." Skittery added sleepily.

"The pessimist is awake. Oh Joy." Racetrack said, punching Skittery in the arm repeatedly. This earned him a punch right in the eye from Skittery a few seconds later.

"Mush would never keep secrets from us," said Blink. "would you?"

"No," Mush rushed. "what's the point?"

Mush felt a little wave of guilt lying to Kid Blink. His eyes darted to the pillow on his bed. He did have secrets. No one knew about his family or where he came from. But lot's of newsies had secrets. No one knew much about Bumlets or Skittery or even Jack.

The tree outside of the lodging house rustled as Mush passed it. He smiled, secrets were ok. He would tell his friends eventually. In the meantime he had to find out more about Spark.

* * *

Mush was stunned beyond words at what he heard at the circulation building. Pulitzer and Hearst raised the price of the papers to 60 cents a hundred. He knew there was no way he could afford the new prices, especially with these terrible headlines.

"This'll bust me. I'm barely makin' a livin' now." Skittery said, echoing Mush's thoughts.

"I'll be back sleepin' on the streets!" said Boots.

"It don't make no sense! All the money Pulitzer's makin'," Mush said, "why would he gouge us?"

"Because he's a tightwad, that's why." said Racetrack.

Mush remembered what Jack had said yesterday, "We're what holds this town together. Without newsies, nobody knows nothin'." He knew Jack was right. And Cowboy Kelly would find a way to get them out of this somehow.

Mush was becoming anxious. So far no one had an idea of what to do.

"We got no choice! So let's get our lousy papes while they still got some -"

Jack cut him off. "Nobody's goin' anywhere! They ain't gonna get away with this!" After a few minutes thinking and arguing with the other boys Jack finally said, "Well listen. One thing for sure, if we don't sell papes, then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates 'til they put the price back where it was."

"You mean like a strike?" the new guy, David, spoke up.

"Yeah, like a strike!"

Mush could not believe this. They would be starving in a few weeks. Who was gonna listen to a few angry kids?

"Jack, I was only joking. We can't go on strike, we don't have a union." Well at least David had some sense. _But Pulitzer can't do this. It's not fair._ Mush thought, _He sleeps on satin pillows while we're begging for bread._

Mush felt someone grab his shoulder. It was Spark. His heart raced a little. He hadn't been this way around girls since he was young. But the new prices distracted him from thinking about his feelings.

"What's going on?" She asked him, her eyes wide with concern.

"Pulitzer jacked up the price." Mush said angrily.

"By how much?"

"Ten cents a hundred." Mush punched the wall with his fist. Ignoring the sharp pain that followed, Mush felt a little better, but not enough.

"He can't do this to us!" Spark exclaimed. She turned to see what Jack Kelly would say. Spot usually had her keep an extra close eye on him. He seemed to be the most threatening newsies leader to Spot.

"Alright. Let me think about it. Listen. Dave's right. Pulitzer and Hearst and all them other rich fellas, I mean, they own this city, so do they really think a bunch of street kids like us can make any difference? The choice has got to be yours. Are we just gonna take what they give us, or are we gonna strike?" Jack said.

Spark and Mush looked at each other to see what the other would do. Striking seemed like a good idea, but they weren't quite sold on it. Jack kept talking.

By the end of Jack's speech Mush and most of the other newsies were convinced to strike. "The World" would know that they weren't about to take this.

Mush was so ready to beat Pulitzer that he wasn't even paying attention to what Jack was saying.

"... and go tell the other that we're on strike." Said Jack.

"Say, Jack, I'll take Harlem." said Blink.

"Yeah, I got Midtown." Racetrack called over his shoulder.

"I got the Bowery, Jack." Mush volunteered. Most of the other boys wouldn't want to go there. The Bowery was one of the worst parts of Manhattan.

* * *

Spark had to go back to Brooklyn to talk to Spot. A strike seemed like a good idea but it wouldn't work if just the Manhattan newsies were doing it.

"So," Jack said, "who wants Brooklyn?"

Perfect timing. None of the boys had to know she was actually from Brooklyn. And she could get the information to Spot and just hope he would agree with Jack's ideas to strike.

No one spoke up. But suddenly Spark stepped forward. Mush grabbed Spark's wrist as she raised her hand to volunteer.

"You can't go there." He said, urgently. Her angered expression surprised him.

"And why not?" She spat, startling him even more. There was a reason none of the other newsies wanted to go to Brooklyn. Spot Conlon was dangerous.

"It's Brooklyn," Was Mush's only response.

"So? I've been there a few times." Spark said, trying to keep her persona hidden. It was hard enough trying to hide her accent.

"But I don't want you goin' there. It's dangerous for a lady to go by herself." Mush said protectively. He barely knew this girl but he didn't want anything to happen to her.

"I'll be fine." Spark said, trying to break from his strong grip. She was getting angry, Mush had to do something to get her to listen.

As the crowd dispersed Mush took Spark's hand and led her to Jack who was yelling at Pulitzer's office boy through the door.

"So's your old lady! You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with me!"

"Yeah!" Les yelled.

Jack blushed a little, recognizing Spark as a girl even with her hat on. Mush knew Jack never spoke that way around ladies.

"Jack, David, this is Spark," Mush said, "she wants to help with the strike."

Jack smiled approvingly, knowing this was the girl Mush's thoughts had been on all night.

"You wanna help..." he thought for a minute, "You know, there are some girl newsies around. Of course we won't soak them. We won't even touch them. The bulls won't touch them either. But imagine if all of the newsies in New York went on strike, even the girls, it really would stop the world."

"I think there's some girls who frequent the White Way, you know, Broadway where all of them theaters are." Mush added.

"You could talk to Dave's sister, um..." Jack blushed. A lot. Mush knew he didn't forget David's sister's name, he was in love. "Sarah Jacobs."

"Yeah, we used to see some girl newsies on our way to school every day." David said and gave her his address. Mush was relieved, now he didn't have to worry about Spark.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jackie boy. I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike."

Chase listened intently as Spot and a Manhattan newsie named David and the famous Jack Kelly discussed "The World"'s newly raised prices. 60 cents per hundred papers was crazy. During the war it was fine but now... Chase knew she could eat 2 days on 10 cents. With these headlines she would starve before the summer was out. And she was one of the best newsies in Brooklyn. She briefly considered selling another paper, other than "The World" or "The Journal", which also raised its prices, but she agreed with Jack and David. Pulitzer and Hearst couldn't push them around; just because they were young and poor, they still had rights.

"We're not playing - we are going on strike." David said.

"Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jackie boy? Some kind of walkin' mouth?" Spot glared at David.

Chase twirled the end of her hair nervously. Spot wasn't as open-minded as she was. David looked intimidated but he and Jack stood their ground.

"Yeah, it's a mouth. But a mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say." said Jack.

Chase noticed Spot's newsies started surrounding Spot, Jack, David, and Boots; a young Manhattan newsie. She slid deeper into the shadows of the crates and scaffolding, as to not make a scene, and started shooting the boys looks to get them to stand down. David and Jack weren't causing any harm. And they had good ideas. If all the newsies in New York went on strike the newspapers would have to listen.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to newsies all around the city." David said.

"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?"

Chase froze. She sensed someone sneaking behind the crates she was leaning against. She looked around but no one else seemed to notice, they were too enthralled in Spot and David's face-off.

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean..well, you gotta!"

Spot stared at David for what seemed like an eternity.

"You're right Jacky-boy, brains." Spot smiled. Chase rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe how quickly his mind changed when it came to flattery. "But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

"Because I'm telling you, Spot." Jack responded.

"That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me."

Chase took a breath to release her frustration. Spot was so stubborn! There were easily three thousand newsies in Brooklyn who sold "The World" and "The Journal". Even if they weren't all Spot Conlon's newsies they would still listen to him. Spot was intimidating and charismatic. She couldn't help but smile, he was also charming.

As spot turned to climb his "throne" on top of the crates, Chase sprinted after Jack, David, and Boots. Her shoes barely made a sound on the creaky old pier as she ran. It was from all her years of dancing.

"Hey!" she called after them, "Hey, wait!" They turned faster than she could stop. She tripped, not like a graceful dancer at all. Chase probably would have fallen face-first if Jack and David hadn't caught her.

"Whoa," David said, "you ok?" The boys took off their hats and put them to their hearts.

Chase smiled, they were such gentlemen, who better to lead the strike? (If she was a boy Spot would've probably soak her for that). Chase saw something flash in Jack's eyes when he looked at her. Recognition?

"Have we met?" he asked, cocking his head as he tried to remember.

"No, I don't believe so." she answered.

"Your accent." Jack said, "It doesn't really sound like Brooklyn." Chase felt her heart drop a little, remembering her past.

"I was born in New Jersey," she said, trying to control her emotions, "and then I moved to Manhattan," she took a breath, "and then I was brought here."

"You were brought here?" David asked.

"Yes." Chase looked toward the river.

"I'm sorry" he said, understanding.

Jack studied her face sympathetically. They boys were silent, waiting for what she had to say.

"What Pulitzer and Hearst are doing isn't fair. We have voices and we need to be heard." she said, "I know you guys need us. The others are just scared, a lot of them will go hungry tonight. Spot's obstinate but I know he'll join eventually."

"How can you be so sure?" David asked, Chase could sense a little irritation in his words.

"I'll talk to him." She said. The of them just stared at her.

"He'll listen to you?" Jack asked finally.

"Yeah,"

"Are you his sister or something?"

"No," Chase laughed a little. People asked her this question a lot. She and Spot had the same hair color and a similar complexion, but Spot had piercing, icy-blue eyes and Chase's eyes were clear and green like glass.

Jack and David shared a small smile. Chase felt herself blush, she hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

"What's your name?" Jack asked.

"Ro- Chase." She probably should have told him her first name. She trusted Jack but she remembered the sound she heard earlier, not sure who else was listening.

He smiled suspiciously and nodded, he was probably used to secrets. "You got a last name with that?"

"Meyers." She whispered, Jack's eyes widened a little.

"Well," he said after a moment, "I'm Jack Kelly and this is Boots," he pointed to the younger boy, "and this is-"

"David Jacobs." Said David.

"Nice to meet you all," Chase said, "I'll talk to Spot. And if he doesn't listen I'll get as many newsies as I can to go to Manhattan with me. We will beat Pulitzer and Hearst." she said, her eyes sparkled with intensity.

"Welcome to the strike." David extended his hand. Chase spit in hers and shook his. David kept a stiff smile on his face and then wiped his hand on his pants. Jack laughed.

"Goodbye boys." Chase turned. Spot will listen, She thought, he had to.

* * *

Spot took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. It wasn't because of Jack and David, it was because of Pulitzer and Hearst. Since when did they become the Kings of New York? The strike was a good idea but Spot wasn't about to ruin his reputation if they lost.

He climbed up the scaffolding and sat on his throne. He was the King of Brooklyn. Why shouldn't he be the King of New York? Chase would probably say something about his pride but Spot didn't care. Thinking of Chase, Spot wondered where she went. He hadn't seen her since that morning when they found out about the new prices. He sat up straighter and looked around for her.

"Hey Spark," He called down at the girl newsie, who was hiding behind the crates for some odd reason. "Have you seen Chase?"

"Not since this morning." She answered, looking away from Spot's piercing stare.

Everyone was avoiding Spot today, although it was uncommon for Chase to avoid him as well. She wasn't scared of him. Spark shuddered when she remembered what had happened when she told Spot about the strike earlier that day. He was already furious that the guy running circulation demanded $1.20 for his usual 200 papes. Chase had to step in front of Spark earlier, just to make sure Spot wouldn't take a swing at her in his anger. He would never hit a girl but he had such a bad temper that he became a maniac and didn't know what he was doing.

* * *

"How was Manhattan?" Story asked Spark. Story was Spark's older sister by about a year. The Masi sisters looked nothing alike, Story had wavy red hair, brown eyes, and italian olive skin and Spark had blue eyes (almost as bright as Spot's), blonde hair, and fair skin. You could only tell they were sisters if you looked closely.

"It was… Pretty much the same as always."

"Aha," Story sat next to Spark on the pier. "I don't believe you. Something's different."

"No—"

"There's a boy, isn't there?"

"There are lots of boys in Manhattan—"

"But there's one specific boy. You're not yourself right now. You're not bubbly like normal and I know it's not from almost getting punched by Spot." Story raised her eyebrow at Spark. They were pretty close. It wasn't like her to keep secrets from Story.

"Ok," Spark said after a moment. "Yes, there is a boy!"

A few of Spot's newsies looked up at this random outburst from Spark. She blushed.

"Who is it? Do we know him? Tell me!"

"He said his name is Mush."

"Mush, Mush. I don't know him. But I trust he's all you've ever wanted in a guy?" Story wanted to make sure her sister was taken care of. She was very protective.

"He is," Spark looked out into the water.

"Then why don't you look happy?"

"Because," Spark started. "I lied to him. I told him I wouldn't go to Brooklyn, he told me it's dangerous—"

"But you live here."

"Well he doesn't know that. I wasn't about to blow my cover. Spot would murder me."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." Someone said. It was Chase. She sat down on Spark's other side. "Is this about boy trouble?"

"Yes,"

Chase sighed and looked up at Spot. "I know how you feel."

Spot jumped down from his perch when he saw Chase and the other girls.

"Where have you been all day?" He asked her, impatiently.

"I've been around," She answered. Chase loved to aggravate Spot. Actually, they took turns annoying each other. Chase usually had the upper hand but Spot never showed weakness. It was playful banter.

Spot turned to the other two girls. "Spark, I need you to go back to Manhattan tomorrow to find out more about Jacky-boy and that strike a' his. And Story, you can go to the Bronx and Long Island, see what they're thinkin'."

"Need me to go anywhere?" Chase asked hopefully. "Queens maybe?"

Spot rarely sent her out to spy for him. Chase detested being called a bird, but she would rather go somewhere and do something instead of lie around Brooklyn all day. Spot would only send her to Queens on occasion, and never alone, because it was close to where she grew up and the newsies liked her there. She knew he would never send her back to Manhattan, it was too dangerous for her to walk those streets by herself. Although, it was just as dangerous for her to walk the streets of Brooklyn but Spot could keep an eye on her there.

"Nah, I got enough from them today. Sorry." He smirked at her, teasing. She just glared at him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mornin'!" Mush said brightly the next day when he saw Spark waiting on the steps of the Manhattan lodging house. She was looking particularly lovely today. "So," he said. "did you get any girls to join the strike?"

Yesterday Jack didn't bring such good news. Spot was worried about them being serious about the strike, and Mush could tell why. A few boys stood around the square with signs chanting about the strike, but mostly the boys just played around like it was a holiday.

Spark played with the end of her hair. She knew she would have to answer this question sooner or later.

"I didn't get any girls to join because I—" The circulation bell rang and the newsies got into formation in the square.

"I'm gonna have to talk to you later." Mush apologized. "You should probably get goin' I don't know what'll happen but I don't want a lady to see this. There's probably gonna be blood."

"I'm a big girl, Mush. I can take care of myself." Spark crossed her arms.

"Well, I'd be more comfortable if you would just go. Please?" Mush took her hand and looked right in her eyes.

"Alright." But that wasn't going to stop her from watching.

Spark found a high stack of crates next to the circulation gates. A perfect spot to see the action. The mob of newsies forced their way through the gates toward a smaller number of apprehensive looking scabbers. One by one, the first few scabs threw down their papers to join the strike and avoid getting beaten by the army of newsboys. One decided he would risk defying the union. And the battle began.

"What have we here, Oscar?" Spark turned. On the crate a step below her were two menacing looking boys. They looked similar, like they were brothers. Both had bruises and blood dripping from their faces.

"Looks like this little Girly's messing with things she shouldn't."

"Strikes ain't for ladies." The boys looked at each other, identical wicked smiles on their faces.

"Maybe we should help her out." Before she could do anything, one of the boys grabbed her around the waist.

Spark screamed, kicking and punching the boys as they carried her back down to the ground. One of them smacked her across the face.

"Help! Someone help me!" She cried, hoping one of the newsies would hear her over the commotion.

"Shut up!" The boy smacked her again. The other boy, Oscar, slammed her against the crates and pulled back his fist, ready to punch.

"You need to learn some manners, Girly."

Mush heard a female voice call out from far away. He had just tipped over the circulation wagon. He knew that voice. He turned and saw Oscar Delancy holding Spark against crates outside of the circulation building.

"HEY!" said at the top of his lungs. Oscar didn't move but several newsies, including Racetrack, Blink, and Skittery, heard him and turned their attention to Oscar. All at once they pummeled him. Morris tried to stop them but there were just too many. It seemed like all the newsies were soaking the Delancy brothers. They heard the high-pitched sound of police whistles. Mush grabbed Spark's wrist.

"Come on!" he said. The rest of the boys scattered too. They had to find some place to go or "the bulls" would catch them. Sprinting down the street, Mush spotted Central Park. "I know you can climb." he said, already lifting her to a branch on a tree.

Mush took a minute to catch his breath.

"You ok?" he finally said. She looked terrible with a bruise darkening her cheek - that didn't mean she didn't look beautiful though. A few newsies ran past their tree. No one could see them though. They were high up and hidden in the thick, green, summer leaves. If it wasn't for the riot it actually would have been a nice day. Even from the tree they could hear the sounds of the commotion. Mush took a minute to listen to the streets, to hear what was going on. There were screams in the distance, followed by more police whistles.

"Someone was caught," Mush said. "let's hope it was a Delancy or a scab."

Spark shivered a little, she leaned closer to Mush who put his arm around her automatically.

"Those were terrible boys." She said.

"Yeah, the Delancey Brothers, those bums. We'll keep them away from you." Mush told her.

"Thank you," Spark said, gratefully. "I shouldn't have gotten that close to the fight." Spark decided she couldn't lie to Mush anymore. "I was trying to tell you earlier, I didn't go talk to the girls."

Mush cocked his head, trying to figure out where the conversation was going.

"I went to Brooklyn to-"

"You WHAT?!" Mush took a deep breath. He never yelled at girls. Ever. But this was a special case. He was just looking out for her safety and she completely ignored what he said. One look at Spark's face changed his mind. "Ok, fine. You went to Brooklyn yesterday. Great." he forced a smile. There was nothing to do about that now.

He then turned his head to listen, a carriage was passing on the street. Mush looked through the leaves. The carriage was black and the small windows on the sides were barred. A prison carriage.

"We'll have to finish this conversation later. Come on," he said. "we have to see who got caught." They jumped to the ground together and ran back to the square where Mush knew the newsies would be. They all crowded around the old statue of Horace Greeley, David and Jack were pacing on top of it. Mush and Spark pushed themselves through the crowd.

"Who'd they get?"

Jack looked away and closed his eyes like it was painful to think about. It was David who answered him.

"They got Crutchy."

"What?"

"The police surrounded the circulation building and blocked us in when you two ran from the Delancey brothers. We all left too, but Crutchy didn't get out fast enough."

Then Jack spoke up,"The Delanceys thrashed him. Can you believe that? They soaked a crip like he was nothin'! And then the bulls got to him." Jack was infuriated. And so was Mush. He couldn't imagine how evil someone would have to be to do that to Crutchy. He never did anything wrong.

"We can't keep goin' like this," said Jack. "Dave, tonight you and me are goin' to The Refuge. We'll break him outta there. And we better pray Brooklyn comes tomorrow."

Mush couldn't believe it. The strike had only been going on for one day and they already been beaten.

"They may have won the battle but the war's just begun." David said turning to the crowd of newsies. "We we stick together and nothing can break us. No one can make us give our rights away. We're brothers. Arise and seize the day!" He punched Jack in the arm and the newsies cheered.

"You gotta talk to those girls," Mush said turning to Spark.

"It's probably not the best time to do that now." Said David. "The pol—I mean the bulls are probably waiting to see what we'll do next. We're not doing anything illegal but they'll try to crush the strike before it starts."

"How do you know that?" Racetrack asked.

"It's history. It has a tendency of repeating itself. They don't want a revolution to spark and they won't stop at anything until we quit."

"Means we gotta stick together." Jack said. "Just go about normal business and we'll start up again in the morning."

Mush and Spark glanced at each other for a second.

"You wanna go somewhere?" He asked her.

Spark was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her. All the boys wanted to know what she would say. It appeared Mush had a lot of girls in his past. She blushed, embarrassed.

"Yeah, let's do something." And all the boys cheered. You would have thought she agreed to marry Mush. Some of the newsies came over to pat Mush on the back or punch him in the arm.

"Great choice, Miss. You'll be impressed, I'm sure." A dark haired newsie said, nudging her.

"How is she any different than the last few girls?" A taller boy in a pink shirt questioned.

A newsie with an eye patch spoke up, "I have a good feeling about this one. What's your name again, Miss?"

"Spark."

"Nice to meet ya, Spark. I'm Kid Blink and this is Skittery and Racetrack."

"Don't break his heart." Skittery said.

"And don't break her heart either, Mush." Racetrack added. "Live up to your name." And with that, the group of boys disbanded until only Spark and Mush were left in the square.

"Do I have a Don Juan on my hands?" Spark asked, joking. She was a little confused by Mush's friends' comments about breaking hearts. She'd never really been in a relationship, she was almost 15, but she'd seen Chase get her heart broken before. Spark didn't want to start in that pattern.

"No," Mush blushed, he didn't want Spark to think he was a no-good philandering tramp. "I'm not quite so suave. Usually the girls leave me for someone better. _That's_ how I got my name."

"You wanna tell me the story or is it too painful? Spark wanted to know.

Mush took Spark's hand and led her down the street.

"It's a long story but I'll gladly tell you if you'd like." He turned to her and saw that she was genuinely interested. "I wasn't always a newsie. I wasn't always an orphan either." he laughed, "I guess none of us started out like orphans or we wouldn't be here..."


	5. Chapter 5

Mush's father was an ace reporter for "The World", Nicholas Meyers. Mush was named after him. And his mother stayed at home to take care of him. They weren't filthy rich like Pulitzer and Hearst but they were pretty well-to-do. When Mush was four, his aunt on his mother's side and his uncle got into a bad train accident. And Mush's cousin, Roselia, was orphaned. His parents adopted her, they were her only family, and she became his sister.

"And when we were both eight years old, my - our parents died in a fire. They went to the theater and the whole stage went up in flames. They were in the front row. In the papers it said my dad carried my dying mother out the door and then collapsed because of the smoke and died." Mush blinked back tears and tried to keep his voice from cracking. "That night Roselia and me were woken up and taken to Pulitzer's office. There wasn't anyone left to take care of us."

Pulitzer made a decision for Mush and Roselia quickly. Rosie was taken to a girls' boarding school in Brooklyn and Mush was taken to the Newsboys Lodging house. The nuns gave him a bible and a change of clothes. And Mr. Pulitzer handed him a quarter and pushed him out the door.

"Pulitzer told me that Roselia had a chance to become a proper lady and move up in society, get married into a rich family and all that. But he said that I was too young for him to tell if I would be an honest worker. He said if I made a living as a newsie and stayed at the lodging house, he would pay me to sell papers when I turned 16 years old. My birthday's next month and I haven't heard from him since. I'm stuck a newsie until I can earn enough money to leave New York." Mush realized he didn't once mention how he got his name.

"Oh," he said, "so I lived - or actually, I'm still living at the lodging house. About two years ago, Jack Kelly caught me on my first date with a girl. I took her to the fountain in Central Park and tried to kiss her." he blushed a little, "She smacked me right in the face. The boys teased me and they've called me Mush ever since. I guess the name just stuck."

Spark squeezed his hand and blinked back tears from Mush's story. She didn't expect him to open up for her like that. "So you're not a Casanova. You're more like Romeo." Spark remembered from the stories her sister had told her.

Mush blushed again. "No one's ever called me that before." He hoped his and Spark's story ended better than Romeo and Juliet's. They approached Irving Hall, Medda's theatre. Mush turned to Spark and smiled. "Wanna see the best Vaudeville show in all of New York?"

* * *

Story broke into a fast walk through the semi-familiar alleyways of Manhattan. Spot sent her to find Spark. He wanted to have a meeting with all of his Brooklyn newsies about the strike and it was imperative that she be there. Story didn't want to keep Spot waiting. Especially because she knew she would have to deal with Chase who wouldn't be in a good mood. Chase had tried to convince Spot to let her go to Manhattan too, but he wouldn't.

Story, lost in her thoughts, ran right into someone.

"I am so sorry." She had to take a second look. The person she crashed into was wearing mostly blue, like Spark. But it was a boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes. Another boy was standing next to him, she recognized these boys. They had come to Brooklyn the day before.

"No, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." The boy said as he helped her up.

"Hey, you're one a' Spot's girls, ain't ya?" The other boy, Story recognised him as Jack Kelly said, "So did Spot send you to tell us he changed his mind about the strike?"

"No, um…" Story couldn't find the words to say, which was not like her.

"You look distressed, do you need help?" The other boy had an infectious smile and she really liked his voice.

Story nodded, "Yes, I'm trying to find my sister."

"There's a lot a' kids in this city," The other boy, Jack Kelly, said. "what does she look like?"

"She has long blonde hair and blue eyes. And she was wearing a blue shirt and black trousers."

Story and the boy locked eyes for a moment. "Oh, um…" She could feel herself blush.

"Th- that girl sounds like Spark." The boy stammered.

"That's her name! Could you help me find her, uh, I don't know your name."

"I'm David Jacobs."

"Story Masi." She said. They stared at each other again.

"Well," Said Jack, a small smile on his face. "Dave, why don't you help Story here find her sister. I gotta go find—rope. We'll need it later."

"But I—"

"Just go, Mister Prince Charming." Story giggled at Jack's joke, making David blush a little.

* * *

"That was wonderful! She's amazing!" Spark knew Chase would love something like this. She'd be so jealous when Spark got back to Brooklyn. It was already dark out. She should probably get back about now.

"Yeah, Medda's great." Said Mush, he turned to Spark. "Earlier I told you my story. What about yours?"

"Mine's not as interesting." She confessed. But Mush was already listening. "Alright then. I never knew my parents. Or at least, I don't remember them. Me and my sister Story lived at a horrible orphanage in Queens." Spark shuddered. Mush put his arm around her again and Spark's stomach filled with butterflies. "We escaped when I was 5 years old and the Bro— some newsies found us and took us in."

"What about your name, Miss Spark? I gotta hear about this one." Mush teased.

She looked down, embarrassed. "I got my name because I'm always starting trouble. People tell me I have a smart mouth. They also say I'm a little obnoxious."

"You, a smart mouth? Nah, I don't see that." Mush said half sarcastically, "You and Racetrack will make good friends."

Mush found himself leaning closer and closer to Spark. She really was gorgeous. But she didn't try too hard, that's what he liked about her. Just as they were mere inches from kissing, Mush stopped himself and pulled back. He'd only known this girl two days.

Spark pulled back from Mush, disappointed. He was so sweet and she could tell he really liked her. She really liked him.

"Where have you been?" Spark jumped as Story and David ran up to her and Mush. Good thing they hadn't kissed.

"I was here the whole time." Story didn't look convinced.

"We have to get back. We have something important to talk about. Now."

Spark let go of Mush's hand. But then she looked from Story to David. They were standing very close to each other. She raised her eyebrow. "Come on!" Story grabbed her wrist before Spark could say anything. "Thank's David!"

"No problem." He called to her.

"See you tomorrow, Mush" Spark said. "What was _that_?" She asked her sister.

* * *

"...Hold out, my gallant kids, an' tomorrow I me-self, at the head of three thousand noble hearts from Brooklyn will be over here to help yous win your noble scrap for freedom an' fair play." Spot said.

Chase felt relief wash over her when she heard him say those words to Bryan Denton, journalist for "The Sun". Earlier that morning they read that the boys back in Manhattan had been beaten the day before. And a crip named Crutchy had been the first prisoner of war by Pulitzer and Hearst.

Chase smiled, Spot put on his most haughty and intimidating look and crossed his arms as Denton took down the fact that he was wearing pink suspenders. One of the boys stole his red suspenders that morning, as a joke. Spot wasn't happy. He hadn't found out who did it, but Chase had a feeling Spot and whoever it was would have a nice "talking to" later.

Chase was the one who gave Spot those red suspenders. It was on her first Christmas as a newsie. She had saved pennies for months to buy them for him. She remembered the excited look on his face when she handed him the package: wrapped in newspaper and tied with a blue ribbon leftover from the Christmas decorations at the girls' lodging house. He looked positively ecstatic when he opened it.

 _"Are you sure you can afford this?" he had asked her, genuinely concerned._

 _"Yes," she told him. "I know it's not enough but I wanted to repay you for saving my life."_

 _Spot smirked. "I think I saved your life several times, actually. Next year I expect the full amount plus interest." he teased._

 _"Don't push your luck." She laughed, punching him in the arm. Then, seriously, she said, "You really do deserve it, you know."_

 _"Thank you." And he gave her his most sincere smile, the one he only used for her._

Chase snapped back to reality as she saw Denton leave, walking toward his carriage. Spot turned to her.

"You're not coming with us tomorrow." he said and ascended the crates up to his throne. Chase just stood there for a second, mildly shocked.

"Why not?!" she followed him up there.

He sighed and looked out at the river view, it was close to sunset.

"Because I'm not lettin' any a' you girls go. Not the little ones neither. It's too dangerous."

"But I'm a girl, they probably wouldn't touch me." She said hopefully.

"They took a crip right off the streets, bruised and bleeding, and put him in the slam. Pulitzer and Hearst's guys ain't afraid to get their hands dirty."

Chase pouted at him, crossing her arms. She whispered under her breath. "I bet Jack Kelly lets the girls fight."

Spot punched the crate he was sitting on. The sound echoed and the boys below went quiet. A minute later Spot spoke again.

"What about Snyder? The Refuge is in Manhattan. You wanna spend the rest of your time there?"

Chase turned away from him and looked at the Brooklyn bridge, tears filling her eyes.

"Hey," Spot said, realizing what he'd done. "hey, you know I didn't mean that." He put a hand on her shoulder. "If you- if any a yous got hurt I would never be able to forgive myself."

Chase lightened up a little.

"Well, I'm not going to let you have all the fun." She said, and she straightened and went back down the crates, ignoring the boys who were whistling and teasing her and Spot. She almost clocked a boy who said, "Is it gettin' hot in here or what?"

* * *

Most newsies, although they denied it, cried themselves to sleep. And why shouldn't they? Many of them were orphans, mistreated, and penniless. Barely living off of stale bread and bitter coffee. The world was cruel to them, it's a wonder any of them had anything to smile about. But they did. "It's a fine life.", they would say.

Right now, Mush didn't think it was a "fine life". He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and crying. It was silent at the lodging house. If anyone could hear him, they were quiet. He had a great day with Spark, but it wasn't enough to distract him from what he was really feeling.

When Mush went to bed that night it all hit him at once. Crutchy was gone. No one wanted to join the strike. Pulitzer didn't care whether they starved to death, he just wanted his money. And Mush's family, they were gone.

He needed help. Or comfort. Something. Someone who would listen to him. He remembered. Mush knelt on his bed and folded his arms and whispered a prayer between sobs.

"Dear God," he began,, "I- I don't know how to start. I'm just... havin' a hard time here. I know know what Pulitzer's doing isn't right. And I know it's not fair. But I feel so helpless. I know you won't give us any more than we can take but it's like David and Goliath now... It seems impossible that we'll win... Please help us... And Crutchy- please help him too. He's always been the strong one. He would give up his life for any one a' us. You know, he's really one of your finest children, if you ask me." Mush smiled as he digressed. "I feel so alone... I'm so thankful- that I have friends and a place to live. There are so many others who aren't even as fortunate as me. I know you love me. Or I wouldn't be alive today...But I still feel empty... I miss my family. Especially Roselia. I know there's no way to bring them all back but if she's, at least, still out there somewhere could- could you give me a sign or something? I need her now... So please, could you help? I don't know how any a' us can go on without you... Amen."

Mush laid back down and cried silently. He felt his Bible under his pillow. He opened it up. In the sparse, silvery moonlight, he read, something in Psalms: "For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

* * *

 **A/N: When I first got the idea to write about Mush I was actually planning on writing a Newsies-Hello Dolly crossover (if you didn't know, both musicals take place in New York at around the same time, Hello Dolly begins in 1890). I was going to make it so Medda and Dolly were old Broadway friends and Mush was going to fall in love with Dolly's niece. I didn't end up writing "Hello, Newsies!" but a lot of elements from those ideas made it into "5,000 Reasons..." the main one being that Mush is religious. I'm religious, so maybe I just liked the idea of having a newsie who believed in God in my story. I can't remember if Mush's backstory was with me back in the "Hello, Newsies!" days, but I think Mush being an orphan who came from wealth really works with the whole religion thing. While the working class didn't have time (or sometimes the desire) to attend church, the rich would.**

 **Another thing I kept from "Hello, Newsies!" was the character of Dolly's niece, Helena. She will appear in the sequel to "5,000 Reasons" which I will be uploading soon. While Helena is no longer the niece of Dolly Levi-Vandergelder, she is related to a character in "Newsies", and her personality is almost the same.**

 **Sorry, that was a long author's note...**


	6. Chapter 6

Mush was one of the last boys to leave the lodging house, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Coming outside, he almost tripped over Spark who was sitting on the lodging house steps.

"Smooth," Racetrack laughed. Mush glared at him.

None of the boys looked happy today. It was like the day before had drained them of all their excitement.

"Come on fellas," David said, "Crutchy's fine for now, me and Jack saw him last night. But we have keep fighting for him."

"That's right," Jack chimed in, "we all owe him, he woulda done the same for us."

Mush followed David, Jack, and the other newsies out to the square. They all lined up, waiting for the circulation bell to ring.

"You ready?" he asked Spark.

The bell rang and the gates to the circulation building opened. About a hundred scabbers tentatively approached. Some of the newsies tensed, ready to fight.

"Alright, everyone remain calm." David said.

A second passed, Mush looked at Spark and then back to Jack, who spoke next. "Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!"

The newsies yelled in agreement and ran after the scabs. The Delancey brothers, who were just coming out of the gates, were pushed down by the crowd of boys. One of the scabs knocked on the metal door inside. Huge, menacing-looking thugs came out carrying clubs and chains, ready to strike.

Spark turned to leave when she heard the gates slam shut, she stopped dead. Spark wasn't getting out of there. She couldn't find Mush in the crowd, there were too many people in such a small space, but she had to find him or get out of there.

After they had been separated, it took a minute for Mush to catch Spark's eye from far away. "You gotta get outta here! NOW!"

There was no way for her to go. The gate was her only shot. She prayed that her tree-climbing abilities worked on gates too and she began to climb. It was a long way down if she fell and there wasn't much for her to hold on to. Spark got about halfway up when she screamed, losing her balance. She was barely holding on with one hand.

"Hey, Spark!" Spark didn't dare look down, it sounded like one of Mush's friends. Racetrack. "I got ya!"

There was no way she was going to jump down there in the middle of a riot.

"It's ok," called Racetrack. "You can do it."

Closing her eyes, Spark let go of the gate.

Just as Mush turned to find Spark, one of the thugs punched him right in the stomach, knocking all the air out of him. He felt like he was going to throw up. Black spots filled his vision as he fell to the ground in pain. Mush thought, _This is the end..._ As the thug came closer to finish the job.

Suddenly, everything paused. A voice called from above.

"Never fear, Brooklyn is here!"

Mush opened his eyes. Above all of them were hundreds of boys. On the roof, in the windows, jumping in from the tops of other buildings. And the boy who spoke was their leader, Spot Conlon. The fighting began again, but this time the newsies had more of an advantage. Mush got a wave of energy.

He grabbed the ankle of the thug who beat him, pulling him to the ground. And Mush pounded him.

Mush stood up, wiping blood on his pants and he saw Racetrack and Spark. Their faces were so close together and they were staring into each other's eyes . Mush couldn't breathe again.

Spark and Racetrack's eyes met for a second. He smiled at her and she smiled at him. Then dropped her on the ground abruptly. He couldn't be like this with Mush's girl.

"You're ok, right?" He punched her in the arm like one of the guys. She was used to this in Brooklyn. "Just walk it off." And he joined his friends soaking the scabs.

Spot jumped down from the roof and ran to the gate. At least a hundred boys must have come through, pushing the thugs back, and there were even more boys out on the streets. The newsies won.

Mush didn't have time to comprehend what had just happened, he was in a daze. So he didn't notice that Denton brought his camera to take a picture of their victory and he was standing right in the middle of it. The flash brought him back.

"Are you ok?" Mush asked Spark, although not in the familiar friendly way he usually talked to her. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but he didn't like it. He felt bad, but he found himself glaring a little at Racetrack, who was one of his best friends.

Mush didn't even listen to her answer, obviously she didn't have the same feelings he did, so he walked away to join the other newsies celebrating.

* * *

A few hours later the boys met Denton at a restaurant. He was carrying an afternoon edition of "The Sun".

"Hey fellas! Big time." he said them as he handed the paper to Jack Kelly.

Mush, Spot, and a lot of Jack's newsies were on the front page. The picture was huge. This proved to be a little bit of a nice distraction for Mush.

"Where's me pitcha? Where's me pitcha?!" Spot Conlon said.

"Look at you, Jack. You look like a gentleman or somethin'." Mush said, excited that his picture was in the paper (even though it wasn't really a good one).

"Will you get your fingers off me face?" Jack pushed his hand away.

The boys all crowded around to see the picture.

"Where does it say my name? Where's my name?!" Spot pushed his way closer to see.

"Will you quit thinking about yourself?" said Jack, irritably.

Spot sat there with a smug expression on his face. He'd gotten himself in the papers! He was really the King of New York now! He stopped when he thought about Chase. She'd better not find out about this. If she did he would never hear the end of it. As he watched the other boys celebrate, he noticed Spark, he had forgotten he sent her to Manhattan that day. She was sitting in the corner, alone. She looked like she was holding back tears.

"What's a matter?" he asked her, sitting down in the chair across the table from her.

"Nothing." She wouldn't look at him.

"No, if I know girls, which I do," Spot said, all hoity-toity. "I know that 'nothing' always means something. Now what is it?"

"Boy troubles." Spark hoped Spot would leave her alone. He didn't like to deal with other people's emotions.

"A guy hurt ya? Who was it? I'll take care a' him for ya." Spot's eyes narrowed as he reached for his cane. Spot was extremely protective of the girl newsies.

"Thanks, Spot, but I don't want you to do that. He didn't hurt me on purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought he really liked me, but he hasn't paid me any attention today and I think he's mad at me." She closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice from shaking. "He hates me. I know he does."

"Spark, you're one a' the sweetest girls I ever met; don't tell Chase I said that," Spot got Spark to smile a little. "What could you possibly have done to make this boy mad? Who is it anyway?"

"It's Mush, the one standing next to Jack over there. And if I knew what I did wrong, I would have tried to talk to him already."

Spot smiled a little, trying to stop himself from laughing when he noticed a couple of Jack's newsies staring at Spark with blissful smiles on their faces.

"Mush's probably just jealous." he then gestured to the whole room of boys, "Look at all a' them starin' at you, you're gorgeous and they all wanna get to know you."

"That's not true."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention. Look around and you'll see." Spot said. "There's that pretty smile a' yours."

Mush finally forgave Racetrack for whatever had happened earlier. Race didn't even talk to Spark once they got in the restaurant. He was too busy celebrating with the boys. He even agreed to Kid Blink's thoughts on the mayor's daughter. Mush wasn't worried anymore.

But he did wonder where Spark was. He hadn't spoken to her since Denton brought the paper either. Mush stood on a chair to see around the whole restaurant. There were so many boys, over a hundred, crammed into a small space, not that they weren't used to it from living in the lodging houses.

Finally, Mush saw Spark in a back corner of the room. She was sitting across from Spot. They were talking, their faces close together. She blushed and smiled. Mush needed some air.

He ran out the door, slamming it accidentally, but he didn't care. So many thoughts were running through his mind that he couldn't keep track of what he was feeling.

Spark and Spot jumped at the sound of the door slamming. Mush ran by their window.

"You better go after him, Girly." Spot said.

"Don't call me that!" Spark snapped, and she ran out the door after Mush.

"Mush, wait!" She called after him, but he didn't slow down. She quickened her pace and ran next to him.

"You know," said Mush, "I'm not really in the mood to talk to anybody right now." Mush sped up so Spark couldn't just walk next to him. He was going toward Central Park. It was so big he could find a place to have some time alone there.

"What's a matter, Mush? Did I do something?"

Looking back at Spark's sad expression, Mush stopped and turned. He sighed, a little bit angrily.

"I just thought that maybe, just maybe, you cared about me as much as I care about you." then he said, "Sorry, I'm just goin' through a tough time right now and I thought you could make it a little brighter."

Mush couldn't hold it back any more. He knew, from last night, that it was going to get better, but from personal experience he knew it was going to get a lot worse first. Everything hit him at once. Mush sat on the curb and started crying.

Spark sat down next to Mush and put her arm around him and let him cry. She didn't know what to say. She dealt with crying girls all the time at the girls' lodging house, but she'd never seen a nearly 16 year old boy cry. She started tearing up too. She tried to hold it in, but she couldn't stand to see Mush cry.

Mush stopped mid-sob. Spark really cared about him. His stomach filled with butterflies, so many that for a minute he couldn't he turned to Spark. Wiping a tear from her cheek, he said,

"You don't need to cry for me," he smiled through his own tears. "But thanks."

"I th-thought you c-cared about me. Wh-why did you—"

"I saw you with Racetrack and I thought—"

"Racetrack? Mush, he was helping me—"

"And then just now with Spot—"

"Spot already has a girl. Well, I know he has a girl after him, I don't know what he's feeling though."

"Oh." Mush said, feeling embarrassed but a little better.

"I like you, Mush. I wanna get to know you better but I really like you." Spark said.

Mush blushed a little, he was jealous of the other guys who liked Spark. But she wasn't interested in them, she liked _him_.

"Well, that's nice to know." He twirled her hair around his finger and looked right into her sparkly blue eyes and leaned in closer, slowly, but he wasn't going to back down now.

"Kiss her ya bum!"

Mush jumped and pulled away blushing even more. The moment was gone. He sighed, irritated and glared into the crowd of boys that was standing around them. He hadn't even noticed them come.

Mush laughed sardonically, "You know, Race, I was kinda in the middle of that before you interrupted." It was just like Racetrack to do something like that.

He took Spark's hand and helped her up. One of these days he was going to kiss her.

Race had to speak up when he did. Those two wouldn't have made it to a kiss anyway. They were both too nervous. But Racetrack wanted his friend to know that he wasn't trying to steal his girl. Mush looked pretty upset earlier and he hadn't even tried to talk to Racetrack, which bothered Race because they were close friends.

"You ok?" Spot asked Spark, patting her on the back. The whole thing with her and Mush and Racetrack ruining it all was kind of painful to watch.

"Hey, don't worry," he smiled at her, "your moment will come." Spot got lost in thought, he was thinking about Chase again. The boys back in Brooklyn always teased the two of them. Ever since he took her in, the boys joked that the two of them would end up together. They even called her the Queen of Brooklyn, which was pretty much true anyway. She was a born leader, just like Spot. She took good care of all the newsies in Brooklyn, especially the younger ones. And maybe that's why they really would be so good together.

Mush straightened and joined the crowd of newsies, seeing Spot and Spark together (now that he wasn't worried Spot would try to steal her from him). It was late and she would find her own way home anyway. He went up to Racetrack, who he knew was the one who shattered their moment.

"Don't you ever do that again." he said, punching Race in the arm, half kidding.

"Hopefully I won't have to."

Some of the other boys shouted congratulations and other words of encouragement to Mush, although most of them were sarcastic. Mush was too happy to pay attention though.


	7. Chapter 7

"It's time to go." Spot felt bad making Spark leave, but Mr. and Ms. Casella would be worried if she came in late.

Spot and Spark walked the Brooklyn Bridge in silence. Most of his guys went home earlier. For Spot, it felt good to walk the streets at night. He had time to think. It was actually a nice change. Spot was surrounded by people all the time. People who feared him. People who depended on him. He couldn't remember the last time he thought about himself and only himself. But he was a leader. It was what he was supposed to do. And he knew it.

Spot could walk the streets of Brooklyn with his eyes closed. Even when it was dark out he knew exactly where he was. Making all the right turns, he and Spark came to the girls' lodging house. He knew Chase would want a full report. He would make sure to leave out the part out about getting on the front page of "The Sun". She wouldn't read the paper if they were on strike, right?

* * *

Chase stood in front of the mirror, tying rags in her wet hair to curl it. Chase prided herself in her appearance. It was something that didn't leave her when she left the upper class to be a newsie. She always made sure her hair was done nicely, she only wore trousers in the wintertime when it was cold, and her clothes were always clean. Yes, it was difficult work on mere pennies, but she managed.

"Chase," Chase felt a tug at her nightgown. She looked down and saw big blue eyes staring up at her, with a crown of golden hair. It was Ellie, one of the younger girls, she was only 6 years old. "there's someone at the window for you."

"Did Spark get locked out again?" Chase said.

"No, I'm right here." Spark came through the door and flopped down on the first bed she saw. It had been an exhausting day.

"Maybe it's your boyfriend." Story teased.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do!"

"What?" Chase felt her face flush.

"Spot is so handsome," said Katrina, the youngest girl at 5 years old. She ran to the window. Her dark brown curls bounced as she waved. "He makes my heart beat really fast!"

Chase just stood there. She didn't want Spot to see her right now, with her hair tied up in knots. And she wasn't wearing her camisole.

"Come on!" Katrina exclaimed as she and Ellie grabbed Chase's wrists and dragged her to the open window. Chase reluctantly followed. Spot stared at her from the street for a second.

"Hi," he said, "Oh. Wow. You look-"

"Shut up." Chase blushed, but she smiled.

"I was just going to say 'stunning'." He said innocently. Chase smiled bigger so you could see her dimples, which just made Spot smile back.

"Will you too lovebirds get on with it!" said Spark from behind. Chase pushed her away from the window. Thankful that Spot hadn't heard her.

"So," said Chase, turning back to Spot. "what is it?"

Spot paused uncomfortably.

"Um...I think we're winning."

"Yeah, I know." she threw a paper at him and it hit him in the face. Chase winced a little, she didn't mean to hit him necessarily. It was a copy of "The Sun", the one with Spot's picture on the cover.

"Oh, you saw that?" he said quietly.

"Mmhm..."

"Yeah... Sorry." Spot said, not that sincere.

"Ok, yeah, that's very convincing." Chase said sarcastically.

"Well wha'da ya want me to say?"

"Nothing." Chase smiled at Spot's confusion. She liked to trip him up from time to time, he wasn't always the tough, intimidating King of Brooklyn all the time.

"How was your day?" he asked her.

Chase just smiled, mischievously and looked behind her.

Spot cocked his head and then jumped back, avoiding the hundreds of newspapers that were being thrown at him from the window. And they just kept coming.

Spot stared at the pile of papes in front of him. There had to be thousands, all copies of "The World" and "The Journal". The girls upstairs giggled.

"Where did you get all these?" he asked.

"Did you even read the paper or were you just gazing at your own 'puss'? Page 9." said Chase. Spot raised an eyebrow at Chase's sudden use of street slang as he picked up the paper. It didn't suit her. He couldn't really read the paper in the dim light, but the article said something about newsgirls and the strike. "I told you I wouldn't let you have all the fun."

"What happened?" his eyes widened a little.

"We went out this morning and stood in front of the distribution building."

"And?"

"And when the scabs came out they were scared with all of us in their way, so they threw down their papers and ran. A lot of them joined the strike, too. It happened all day."

"How many joined?"

"Six hundred."

"Six HUNDRED?" Spot gaped at her.

"Yeah," Chase said proudly. "The guys helped us get some of "The Journal"'s newsies too."

Spot stared at Chase, amazed. She loved it.

* * *

Mush felt everyone's eyes on him as he went down the stairs the next morning. They knew that they would be seeing Spark again today and all the boys were waiting to see what Mush would do. It was so unlike them to be into the confusing drama that is love, it was more his thing. The room was silent and Mush didn't like it. He took a breath and walked outside. But Spark wasn't there. He looked up into her usual tree next to the lodging house. No, she wasn't there either. Maybe Race's joke last night embarassed her.

"Um... Ok. W-we should head out there now. Carryin' da ban- I mean, Strike!" Instead of going out the door, Mush went back up the stairs. The newsies thought he was crazy, but they didn't follow him. He had just forgotten his hat.

Jack stared at the portrait, his eyes wide. He knew it. He knew he had seen that girl before. It bothered him for days that he couldn't remember where he had seen her before, but this morning he finally recalled. She had the same playful smile, the same defiant eyes, same dimples, everything.

Jack was still looking at the picture when he heard footsteps.

"Hey Jack," said Mush, grabbing his hat. "what's that you got there?"

"Oh, um. It's your Bible. It uh, I found it on the floor next to my bed." Jack closed the Bible and slid it under Mush's pillow. Mush blinked at him. "Hey Mush, I got a job for you."

"Ok, what is it?"

Jack motioned Mush to follow him downstairs. He borrowed a pencil and a scrap of paper from Kloppman.

"I need you to go to Brooklyn for me." he said as he wrote.

"What, why?" Mush said.

"I need you to take Spot Conlon a message about the rally coming up."

"But why me? I've never even been to Brooklyn."

Jack stared at him for a second.

"Because- Because you're the only one that can do it. Me and Dave have to stay here and plan the rally. And I can't send any a' the other guys, they're still scared of Spot."

"What about Racetrack? He goes to Sheepshead every day so he knows the area."

"I, uh, I got another job for him to do."

"But-"

"Plus, you're the only one smart enough to read a map." Jack crossed his arms. "Wha'da ya say?"

Mush sighed.

"I'll do it."

"Great."

* * *

Chase's morning was going nicely until she reached the pier. Once again Spot refused to let her or any of the girls leave Brooklyn. Chase wanted to see the strike in action. She wanted to fight alongside Spot and Jack and all of the newsies and beat Pulitzer and Hearst. She didn't want to wait around to hear the news, she wanted to be the news.

"After all we did yesterday." She fumed.

"I know," said Story.

"Do I get a 'thank you'? No!"

Spark started. "Well, actually-"

She was pacing up and down the pier. "He says we're supposed to be having a meeting and yet he's just sitting up there on that throne of his. I want to _do_ something! This is not a holiday, this is a strike. We're losing money every day we don't work and we're not doing anything about it." Maybe it was the summer heat getting to her, but Chase was feeling particularly antsy.

"Chase," said Story. "Just be patient. Spot's probably just trying to figure out our next move."

"Yeah," said Spark. "This is pretty much what they do in Manhattan anyway. Just a lot of sitting around and picketing."

Chase sat down and crossed her arms. "I know," she said. "I'm just tired of feeling useless. You and the boys get all of the fun while I'm stuck here with all of the kids."

"Spot just doesn't want you to get hurt." Story said.

Chase sighed, "He's been protecting me for the last three years. He needs to understand that I'm not a sheltered little rich girl anymore. I'm a newsie."

Sometimes Chase felt like she had traded the bondage of high society for the nearly equal stifling protection from Spot Conlon. The only difference was that she didn't need to sit up perfectly straight (although this habit had been permanently stamped in her mind) and maintain a proper, demure disposition at all times. Sure, having the King of Brooklyn on your side was a major benefit, almost every newsie in New York City feared him, so they would listen to him.

"You know, Chase." Said Story. "You could leave if you really want to. What is Spot gonna do? Send somebody out to catch you and bring you back?

Chase thought for a moment. "I guess you're right, but…" She trailed off. The actual act of leaving wasn't the problem. But Chase wanted Spot to look at her the same way he did with the other newsgirls. She wanted to know that Spot believed she could take care of herself.

"Yous look like damsels in distress." said a friendly voice above them. Chase, Story, and Spark looked up to see three of Spot's newsies standing over them. These boys were some of the older newsies, 17 or 18 years old, adorable, and very muscular. They were like the girls' older brothers, even so, Chase had an idea.

"You're right," Chase said, "I really could use some dancing." She looked at Story and Spark, her eyes twinkling. Spark took out her harmonica and began to play.

* * *

Mush stood at the Brooklyn bridge, trying to summon all the courage he had. This was very unlike him. Although he was sensitive, he wasn't afraid of much. He'd gotten his fair share of black eyes and he walked some of New York's shadiest, most dangerous streets. But Brooklyn made him nervous. It wasn't just because of Spot Conlon, who, according to legend, had killed the leader of one of Brooklyn's toughest gangs and became the King of King's County when he was only 12. Mush had heard other stories, and he'd seen the Brooklyn newsies. They meant business.

Jack needed him though. It was urgent.

Mush put his shoulders back and began to cross the bridge.

It didn't take Mush long to find the Brooklyn newsies. He saw them on their pier from the bridge. They weren't hard to miss, there were so many of them. As soon as Mush stepped foot on the pier, several guys stared him down. Mush didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him nervous, he just kept walking.

Mush stood on the pier and watched the Brooklyn newsies for a minute. Since the strike started, the Manhattan newsies spent their time playing in the streets, soaking scabs, and yelling "STRIKE!" into the crowds. Apparently, in Brooklyn, they danced. Maybe the Brooklyn newsies weren't as dangerous as Mush thought.

* * *

"Oh, no." said Spark when she saw Mush approach the pier. She threw her harmonica at a nearby newsie, who picked it up and began to play where Spark left off.

Spot raised an eyebrow when he saw Spark duck behind the crates. He shrugged and turned his attention back to Chase dancing with some of his newsies.

* * *

There were several couples dancing very close to the edge of the pier. A few newsies sat on some crates, including a girl playing the harmonica so well, she could give Racetrack a run for his money. A blonde girl and her partner were dancing so fast, they were just a blur. The other couples tried to keep up but it was clear this girl had a lot of practice. Every few bars, the girl's partner would spin her out and hand her off to another newsie. She never missed a beat.

Mush saw Spot Conlon on a throne of crates. He watched all the action on the pier with a smug expression on his face, like it was his kingdom. His eyes landed on the dancers and his expression softened a bit, a very small smile on his lips.

The song ended, the dancers paused, and Mush got to see who the blonde girl was.

"Roselia?"It was like time stopped.

The girl looked up. "Nicholas!"

Roselia ran over to Mush and hugged him, laughing so hard she started to cry.

"I never thought I'd see you again." he whispered, holding her tightly, he cried too. He couldn't believe it. He found his sister. And she was a newsie.

 _Thank you_ , Mush thought, remembering his prayer from a few nights before.

"I missed you so much," Roselia said, "They wouldn't tell me where they took you."

Mush saw Spot jump down from the crates. His arms were crossed and he was holding his cane. Mush took a step away from Roselia.

"Yous two know each other?" Spot asked, glaring at Mush.

"Spot," Roselia said, wiping tears from her eyes. Spot's expression softened again. "This is my lost brother, Nick. I thought he was gone."

Spot, looked at both of them. Mush saw sympathy in Spot's eyes although he was still glaring. He turned his icy stare back to Mush.

"Oh-" Mush took the paper Jack gave to him out of his pocket, "I have a message from Jack Kelly about the rally." Spot read the note and nodded. He tore up the paper and threw it over his shoulder. Giving Mush and Roselia one more look, he went over to talk to some of the guys.

"I thought you were at a boarding school." Mush said, that's what Mr. Pulitzer had told him, at least.

"I was," she said, sitting down on the pier. Mush joined her and she began her tale.

* * *

 **A/N: I know there's a weird break in the middle of this, switching from Mush's to Spot's point of views. I tend to write things in a very visual movie/play style where there are cuts to random characters in the middle of action. I'm sorry if this is confusing, I just really don't know where to fit these kinds of parts in.**


	8. Chapter 8

The night Roselia and Nicholas's parents died, they were split up. Roselia was taken to a girls' boarding school in Brooklyn. The same boarding school Mr. Pulitzer's daughter, Katherine, went to. Although she was heartbroken, Roselia made the best of her situation at the school. She and Katherine were nearly inseparable due to the fact that they shared a similar fate. One day each of them would be married off to rich suitors to further benefit the Pulitzer name.

Roselia focused on what she loved to do: singing and dancing. She excelled over almost all the girls at the school in these categories and she learned a lot. Her time at the school, however, only lasted 5 years.

It was a warm Sunday afternoon in the middle of October, just before Roselia's 13th birthday. Sunday was her only rest day, but Rosie couldn't stop dancing. She loved it too much. The big front room window was open and occasionally a nice breeze blew in. She was tracing her choreography in front of the mirror over the mantle.

"You dance beautifully, Rosie." said a man's voice.

She didn't need to look in the mirror to see who it was. It was Mr. Snyder, the headmistress' "gentleman friend".

Roselia politely ignored him.

He wasn't particularly attractive, he was tall-ish with thinning hair that looked more white than blonde; and dull, shallow, blue eyes. He was always at the school calling on the headmistress, Ms. Trenton. He would bring her gifts, eat dinner with her and the girls at the school, and sometimes he would take Ms. Trenton away for days at a time.

Roselia just kept dancing. She closed her eyes but she could still feel his presence in the room. She tripped.

"You know," he said stepping closer. "it might be easier if you took that dress off."

Roselia turned, Mr. Snyder stared at her with a hungry-looking expression on his face. There wasn't anyone else around. Most of the girls spent time with their families on Sundays after church, including Katherine.

Roselia looked to the window open window. Someone would hear her if she screamed. She opened her mouth but Mr. Snyder was too fast. He rushed toward her.

"Silence!" he commanded, covering her mouth with his hand.

He slammed her head against the mantle. Her vision went blurry for a second and she felt dizzy from the pain. It was all she could do to prevent herself from collapsing. She blinked for her vision to clear. His eyes stared into hers as he tried a sweet, innocent expression. Still pinning her to the mantle, he reached around her back and started undoing the buttons on the back off her dress. Roselia's eyes widened. His innocent smile turned to one of evil pleasure. She whimpered in protest.

"Shhhhhhhh." he said.

Roselia didn't know where her courage came from, it all happened so fast. She punched Mr. Snyder right in the eye with her left fist and twisted out of his grip. She jumped out the open window, it was only a four foot drop into the rose bushes.

"HELP!" Mr. Snyder cried with false urgency.

Rosie's dress caught in the thorns. She took a second to pull it free. "Stop her! Temptress!"

Roselia ran as fast as she could. She didn't stop for fear that the police would hear Snyder's calls. She ran and ran until her energy was gone. Some people stared as she passed them.

Reaching the park, she sat down on a bench and sobbed, her face in her hands. She realized she hadn't cried this much since the night her parents died and she was separated from Nicholas. She was crying so much that she shivered, although it was a warm day for the middle of autumn.

Roselia heard an uncomfortable sounding cough. When she looked up she jumped. She was looking into blue eyes. But they weren't at all dull and cold like Snyder's. They were bright, icy blue, brighter than the sky. They belonged to a boy who looked close to Roselia's age. He was wearing a gray hat and pink suspenders, with a gold-handled cane hanging from his belt loop. He carried a stack of newspapers.

"Are you alright, Miss?" he asked.

Roselia couldn't break eye contact with him. "Miss?" he said again. Rosie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. The boy pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was a little discolored, but it smelled like fresh linen.

"Now," he said, dropping his papers on the ground. "are you lost? I know where your school is." Roselia realized her dress, her school uniform was a dead giveaway if someone was looking for her.

"No, I can never go back there!" She tried to keep herself from crying. The boy sat down next to her and took her hand. She flinched a little, but she could tell that this boy was sincere. She'd never held a boy's hand before, besides her brother's.

"Shhhh," he said trying to comfort her. "What's a pretty girl like you on the run for?"

"A man tried to take advantage of me." She said.

Roselia took a deep breath and recounted her story, still fighting back tears. The boy listened to every word she said. He smiled a bit when she told him how she punched Snyder.

"Bet you gave him a nice shiner." he said.

"Yeah," Rosie laughed a little. "I probably did." When Roselia finished the sun was beginning to set. The boy looked angry, he had his hand on his cane.

"That man doesn't deserve to walk the earth. Don't you worry," he said, "Me an' my boys is gonna get him. Do you know his name?"

She looked at him gratefully.

"His name is Mr. Snyder. I don't know his first name, but I know he runs The Refuge in Manhattan. I think it's an orphanage...?"

The boy's eyes widened.

"The Refuge ain't an orphanage. It's a jail for kids."

Roselia stared at him, the truth sinking in.

"They're going to put me in jail." she said, feeling panic settling in as well.

"No-"

"I'm fatherless and homeless and friendless and-"

"Not anymore," the boy said, extending his hand to her. "The name's Spot Conlon. And I think I know a place you can stay."

She blinked for a second but then she shook his hand.

"Roselia Meyers." she said. The boy started to help her up from the bench when she felt a breeze on her back. "Spot," she said, lowering her voice. "Could- could you do up the back of my dress?" The maids at Ms. Trenton's school always helped dress the girls. Rosie couldn't reach the buttons on her own. She trusted Spot. She knew he wouldn't do anything to her, but she still didn't know what to expect of his reaction. He blushed a little, barely noticeable, and nodded his head, going around the bench to help her.

"You're bleeding." he said.

Roselia touched the back of her head and her hand came back sticky with blood. "Is that from Snyder?" asked Spot.

Roselia nodded. Spot reached for his cane again, rage flashed in his eyes. "We gotta get you help quick."


	9. Chapter 9

"Where are we going?" Rosie asked.

"The girls' lodging house. Come on." Spot helped her up and grabbed the rest of his papers. The two of them ran down busy streets and narrow alleys. Roselia felt her throat start to burn from running in the cool evening air. She was falling behind Spot. He grabbed her hand and ran even faster.

"Almost there."

Roselia nearly collapsed on the stone steps of the lodging house. It was situated right in the middle of a nice, quiet street. The lodging house was a brick building with flower boxes in the window. Actually, it looked a lot like the boarding house, just a little older.

"I'll let you catch your breath." said Spot and he went inside.

Roselia didn't know what to expect. She prepared herself for the worst. Rosie jumped when she heard the door open. Spot stood next to a pretty, red-haired woman. She smiled at Roselia.

"Oh, you poor dear. Spot told me everything. Come on inside and we'll get you all fixed up." Spot helped her up and they followed the woman inside the lodging house. "I'm Ms. Evelyn Casella, by the way."

"Did you tell her everything?" Roselia whispered to Spot.

"Everything." he answered, and feeling her grip tense and her eyes widen, he added, "It's going to be ok. Relax, she'll take care of you."

They were led to a big room with three rows of bunk beds right inside the door. To the left were sinks and mirrors lined up, stalls that probably had toilets inside; and drawers that were half open, ribbons and rags were spilling out the top. Spot didn't come through the door.

"It's ok Spot," Evelyn said. "No one's here. Well, except for Katrina and Ellie." Roselia saw two little girls, who looked to be 2 and 3 years old, playing by the window.

"Thanks," said Spot smiling and waving at the little girls, "But I think I'm gonna finish selling my papes."

"I'll take one of those." Ms. Casella searched her pockets and produced a dime which she handed to Spot.

"I don't think I have enough to make change." he said, turning out his pockets.

"You can keep it all."

"But Ms.-"

"I insist." Evelyn said sternly, a smile played on her lips, though.

"Thank you." he turned to Roselia, looking into her eyes. "I promise I'll be back as soon as I'm done." She watched him walk out the door and down the steps.

"Right," said Evelyn, "We'll have you fixed up in no time."

Ms. Casella seemed very nice. She had kind hazel eyes, and she was always smiling. Roselia figured she was probably the age her parents would be if they were still alive. "Spot told me you're on the run from Mr. Snyder."

Roselia nodded, not knowing what to say. "You'll have to change your clothes. That dress is too conspicuous." Ms. Casella rummaged through closets and trunks gathering clothes for Rosie.

She was given a white blouse, a little worn but still in one piece; a black button up coat, a gray hat like Spot's, gray trousers with suspenders, and brown leather boots with mismatched laces. "I'm sorry," said Evelyn, "most of the clothes we have here are for boys. These girls don't have much. You'll get your dress back tomorrow, after I dye it black to disguise it, if that's ok."

"Thank you," Roselia said. "You're not going to turn me in, are you?"

"Of course not!" said Ms. Casella, looking surprised. "You did nothing wrong." Roselia was relieved.

"I don't have any money. How will I ever repay you?"

"Room and board here is free. The state pays my husband and I to run this house." Evelyn led Rosie downstairs to the counter she pulled out an old, brown leather book. "Could you sign your name and date of birth, if you know it."

Roselia wrote: Roselia Emmeline Meyers, October 31, 1883.

"You're near 13 years old?" Ms. Casella asked. "There are a few girls close to your age here. I think you'll all get along great." Roselia hoped so.

She noticed a lot of the girls had words in parentheses next to their names, like Spark, Swing, and Story. Every word was different.

"Those are their nicknames," said Evelyn. "You'll get one eventually." She stopped and looked at Roselia right in the eyes. "You know, it will get better." she said.

"How can you be so sure?" Roselia asked. She felt like her dreams had been crushed.

"Because it's always better in the end. When I was your age all I wanted to do was marry my prince and have children." said Ms. Casella, Rosie smiled. "Well, I did meet my prince and we're still in love. But after we got married, we found out we couldn't have children." Tears filled Evelyn's eyes. "But we didn't let that stop us. We saw all the poor orphans out on the streets, barely surviving and we petitioned the mayor to let us start an orphanage. He told us Brooklyn needed a newsgirls lodging house. Now we have 50 beautiful daughters. My point is, keep on chasing your dreams, it will get better in the end." Roselia couldn't stop herself. She ran to Ms. Casella and cried into her shoulder.

"Thank you." she said. A few minutes passed and they heard the door open. Roselia turned and saw Spot standing there, looking uncomfortable.

"You ok?" he asked her.

"Yes," Roselia, a little embarrassed, dried her tears.

"Spot," Evelyn said, "Tomorrow I need you to teach Roselia to be a newsie. I can't think of anyone better to do the job.

Spot beamed.

"I'll be back here tomorrow, then." he said. Spot opened the door and an never-ending line of girls piled into the house. Spot laughed, holding the door open and greeting each one of them by name. When the last of the girls ran past Spot, giggling, he tipped his hat and said, "Goodnight ladies." and left.

Roselia was given a bed on the top bunk between two sisters, Story and Spark Masi. Katrina and Ellie shared the bed underneath hers.

Even after all that had happened today, Roselia smiled in her sleep.

* * *

"Wake up! It's time to get ready!" said Ms. Casella the next morning.

Roselia wasn't used to waking up so early. The sun wasn't even up. She blinked several times to get her vision to clear. She nearly ran into one of the girls.

"Whoa," the girl said. It was Story, one of the girls who had the beds next to Roselia.

"Sorry," Rosie said groggily.

"It's ok. Hey, I heard you already met the famous Spot Conlon."

"Yes, he um... Kind of saved my life." Roselia pulled on her dress that Ms. Casella had hung on the edge of her bed after it was finished dying. It was almost unidentifiable as her school uniform. She put on the hat Ms. Casella had given her as well.

"Oh, how romantic!" Story said as she brushed her hair. Spark giggled beside her.

"So you're gonna be a newsie?" said Story's sister, Spark.

"Yeah," said Roselia. "There's not much else I know how to do."

"It's a fine life carryin' the banner." said Story.

Roselia followed the girls downstairs and out the door. Spot was already there waiting for her. When he saw them he stood up and put his hat to his heart as he had before.

"Morning, ladies." he smiled right at Roselia.

"Morning, Spot." said Spark. She winked at Roselia.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Story added.

Roselia and Spot stared at each other for a minute. Story and Spark giggled.

"Oh... Good morning." Roselia said.

"Shall we?" said Spot, leading the way.

Although Rosie had lived in Brooklyn for 5 years, she hadn't seen much of the city. She never noticed how many children worked in the city. They saw kids of all ages, sleepily walking off to work.

Roselia's stomach growled loudly.

"You hungry?" Spot asked. Roselia nodded. "Hold on one minute." Spot led the girls through a small alley that led to a big square. Around the perimeter were tall business buildings. An open carriage was stopped in the middle of the street. Nuns were handing out bread and cups of coffee to some of the working children.

"Good morning, sisters." Spot said cheerily, taking off his hat for them.

"Good morning, Spot." a few answered back.

"And who is this pretty young one you have here?" one asked gesturing to Roselia.

"This is Roselia, she's new." Rosie smiled politely and her stomach growled again.

"Oh you poor thing." The nuns handed her a cup and some bread. The bread was stale and the coffee bitter, but it woke her up.

They walked down the street, a little ways and reached a gate. The bell rang and the newsies lined up. Roselia realized something kind of important.

"I don't have any money." she said when she saw other newsies paying for papers.

"That's ok," said Spot, smiling. "I'll pay for your papes we'll be selling partners. 50/50 sound fair?"

Roselia wanted to hug him.

"Thank you." was all she said.

Spot bought 150 papers and handed Roselia some.

"Here's 20. See what you can do with that."

Roselia and Spot sat down on the curb to read. "These are terrible headlines." She said flipping through the pages.

"Well then, that's the first thing you gotta learn. Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes. Take a lesson from Story. She's one a' the best girl newsies in this city." Spot pointed to Story, who had already sold 5 papers. Roselia listened carefully, Story was just making up headlines.

"But isn't that lying?" Roselia asked.

"Nah, it's the same thing the writers do. Just gets more people interested, you know?" Roselia realized this actually made sense.

She and Spot walked down the street to find a spot to sell their papers. As Spot made a sale to a couple of businessmen, Roselia saw four boys sitting on steps of a house, talking. One looked over at her and smiled. They were definitely rich boys, judging from their clothing. The youngest looked to be about 14 and the oldest looked 17. They were probably getting ready to go off to school.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Roselia gave them her sweetest smile. The youngest boy blushed and the other boys laughed at him. "Care for a paper?"

"Any good stories in there?" asked one of the older boys, smiling back at Rosie.

"I don't know." She said flirtatiously, "You're going to have to buy one to find out."

"Ok then," said the oldest boy. "Boys we got ourselves a cute little business girl right here. What do you think, should we help her out?"

The others nodded in agreement. The oldest handed Roselia a quarter, insisting she keep the change, and she gave them the four papers.

"Thank you, very much." she said, curtseying to them.

"Any time." The boys waved goodbye to her.

Roselia walked back to Spot, a big smile on her face.

"You just get out on the street and you're already chasing the boys?" Spot teased.

"That's just what I do. I'm a chaser." She said. "I chase my dreams. And I chase the boys." Spot smiled at her.

"Maybe that's what we should call you, Chase."

"I like that."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: No one told me that I uploaded some chapters twice. That must have been confusing to read... Anyway, here is the *correct* chapter.**

* * *

Mush looked at Roselia with tears in his eyes.

"You've grown up so much." he said.

"You have too."

There was a pause before Mush spoke again. "So you and Spot are kind of together?" Mush asked teasing her.

"Oh, no- not exactly." Chase blushed. Ever since Spot introduced her to his newsies, they joked that there was something going on between the two of them. Secretly, Chase wished it was true. She remembered something from her first day as a newsie that she hadn't bothered telling Mush.

At the end of the day, Spot took Roselia to a pier. The pier was filled with newsies of all ages. Mostly older, muscular, tough-looking boys, but Rosie saw Spark and Story and a lot of girls from the lodging house too. There was a stack of crates at one side of the pier. But no one even went near it, even though there wasn't much space on the pier for everyone. Spot started climbing up.

"Come on." he said, leading her.

"What's all this?" Roselia gestured to everything, including the crates. Spot sat down on the top crate.

"All this is mine." he said. "I'm kind of the King." Roselia didn't have a chance to process this because Spot stood up and took out his cane. He banged it on the edge of the crate. Everyone looked up.

"Hey fellas!" he said. Some of the girls put their hands on their hips and glared at him. "And ladies. This is Chase." He swung his arm back to gesture to her. Roselia backed up to avoid being hit. "Yous all better be nice to her," She had to back up again. "She's new and she's not used to all this." Spot gestured to the pier. Roselia had to back up again. Unfortunately, she was close to the edge of the crates. Spot hit her right in the eye with the handle of his cane, so hard, she fell backward. She screamed.

Spot looked down. Chase was plummeting 10 feet down into the river. He had no idea if she could swim or not. Throwing down his cane, he dove in after her.

Roselia came up coughing and gasping for breath. Despite the unusually warm fall weather, the river was cold. Spot grabbed her arm and swam toward the ladder up to the pier. She splashed him, half kidding, it was an accident. And she climbed up the ladder. When they got to the top, one of the older boys offered her his jacket.

"Not a word." Spot said, daring someone to laugh.

Spot smiled again. For three years he'd seen Chase holding back tears about her past. She had become resigned to the fact that the Brooklyn newsies were all the family she had left. With the return of her brother, something was finally going right in her life. Compared to her, he'd been lucky.

Spark popped her head up from behind the crates.

"Are they gone?" she whispered to Spot.

"No not yet." Spot cocked his head. "Why are you hiding, again?"

Spark rolled her eyes "Do I have to explain it to you? Because. That's my answer."

Spot laughed.

Mush and Chase were emotionally exhausted. For a minute, they just sat there and stared at the river and the Brooklyn bridge, a view that Chase would never get bored of.

They turned when they heard laughter behind them. It was Spot and Spark. Chase and Mush turned back to each other, the same annoyed expression on both of their faces.

So Spot had time for Spark but he didn't have time for Chase. She looked back to Mush Chase cocked her head, a habit she'd picked up from hanging around Spot, Why did he care?

"You know Spark?" she asked him.

"Yes,"

"Oh," she said, realization showed in her eyes. "You like her, don't you?"

"No," he blushed. "I just wanna know what she's doin' here. I told her not to go back to Brooklyn again."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason you don't want her here?"

"It's- It's dangerous-"

"I've been doing fine here, thank you very much."

"Well-"

"Ha! So you do like her! Have you told her yet?"

"Not yet." Mush whispered, looking down.

"Looks like we're in the same spot." Chase laid her head on Mush's shoulder and looked out into the water again. It seemed like Spot would never feel the way she felt about him.

Spot followed Spark down to the pier again.

"So this is why you rushed off the other day without talking to the Manhattan newsgirls?" Mush said to Spark as she tried to sneak away. He was a bit irritated.

"I'm sorry, you were so protective, I didn't know what to tell you." Spark smiled apologetically.

"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong but it would've been nice if you told me." Mush said. "And we coulda avoided all this."

"I'm sorry." Spark said again. She wanted to hug Mush. He looked so disappointed. There was a long pause.

Chase stood up to join Mush and Spark.

"You wanna come to Manhattan?" he asked her.

"Yes! I miss it there. Plus, I think I have to thank someone for something." Mush looked at her, obviously she'd met Jack when he came here to talk to Spot.

Knowing that his sister was good friends with Spot Conlon made him seem less intimidating to Mush. He asked him if it would be ok to take his sister to Manhattan with him for a few hours.

"So, you ready to go?" Mush asked Chase.

"What time will yous be back?" Spot said, looking at Chase and not Mush.

"Sometime later." Mush said.

Spot turned to Chase. "Don't come back too late. I'd rather you stay in Manhattan with your brother than risk walking these streets in the middle of the night."

"I'll be fine." said Chase, she felt a blush coming on again, he cared!

Mush and Spot nodded to each other, as a silent agreement. They both wanted to keep her safe.

"Alright then. I'll be at the end of the bridge to walk ya home."

"So have you always been a newsie. I mean..." Chase said as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. It was weird having to look up to her brother. 8 years ago they were the same height.

"Yeah, Pulitzer sent you to that fancy school and I got put in the lodging house." Mush answered bitterly.

"That's not fair."

"Ha, well, I guess Mr. Pulitzer plays by his own rules."

Chase bit her lip angrily.

"He just sent you there, no money in your pocket?"

"He did give me a quarter to buy papes, but that was it. I probably woulda starved too, if it weren't for Mr. Kloppman and some a' the other boys to help me out."

"And- and you had to sell the headlines the next day?" tears welled up in Chase's eyes. She'd seen the newspapers that day. Her name and her parents' names were all over them. Mush put his arm around her.

"Yeah," he said, trying to stop his own tears from coming.

Mush opened the door to the lodging house for Chase.

"Hey, fellas." he said. Every single boy in the room stood up and took off their hats when they saw Chase. She blushed, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. The Brooklyn boys were gentlemen, but she wasn't used to all this.

"On to the next girl, I see." Racetrack nudged Kid Blink. "Ha! That'll be two bucks."

"You said Spark would dump him after seeing him with another girl. Mush, where's Spark? I need to see this!" Blink said.

"Spark doesn't have a problem with Roselia because Roselia is my sister." Mush said.

The room went silent for a second and then the boys surrounded Chase, all talking at once, trying to have their chance with her. "Hey!" Mush said but no one could hear him. "HEY!" Still, no one heard.

"SHUT IT!" said Jack coming down the steps. Leave it to Jack to silence the room. "Give the lady some space." Mush punched him in the arm a few times, as a way to say "thank you".

"Hey, Chase." Jack smiled at her and winked. She parted the crowd of boys and hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered, her tears soaking into his shirt.

"No problem." looking up, Chase saw that his eyes were sparkling with tears too. "Will yous all mind your own business!" he said when he saw all the other boys still standing there. He didn't have to say it twice.

"How could a gorgeous dame like you end up related to a guy like Mush?" Racetrack asked Chase flirtatiously.

Chase smiled at Racetrack's joke, her dimples showing.

"Technically, we're more distantly related." she said, "We're cousins but my parents died and his adopted me."

"Aha," Racetrack licked his hand and smoothed back his hair. "Well then, Roselia, is it? What do you think about horse racing?"

"Nice try, Race, but I think she's already got a guy back in Brooklyn." Mush punched him in the arm.

"Who is it?" Blink asked.

"Please tell me you're not passing me up for some pansy." Racetrack said dramatically.

Chase hesitated a second. But if her brother trusted these boys then so could she. It helped that Jack was sitting on the stairs, smiling at her encouragingly.

"Well," she smiled dreamily. "he's a newsie."

"Ok…" The boys really wanted to know.

"He's a leader. Some might even say he's the King."

Chase, Mush, and Jack all smiled at Racetrack and Blink's surprised expressions. For Mush, it was nice to know what was going on, to have the upper hand and not be the confused and surprised one. Racetrack looked like he was going to fall on the floor.

"Well we know he's not a pansy." Said Kid Blink.

"Your guy is Spot Conlon?!"

"He's not exactly mine yet though." Chase looked down sadly. Mush hugged her.

"Believe me, Rosie, I know how you feel." he said. Jack got up and stood next to Chase.

"Yeah, me too."

The boys stared at him and Chase giggled.

"What, yous think you're the only hopeless romantics here?"

"It's not that, we just haven't seen you with any specific girls recently." Said Racetrack.

"I got no one in particular at the moment." Jack said defensively, but Chase could see a little blush rising on his cheeks.

The boys, not wanting to start anything with Jack turned back to Chase.

"He better treat you right, or we'll 'talk to him'" Race said.

"What? Oh, yeah." Blink looked a little pale and nervous at the thought of even trying to attempt to soak Spot.

"Thanks boys." she smiled, trying to imagine what their fight would look like.

"It's getting late," said Mush to Chase. "We's should get goin'." He opened the door for her.

"Bye boys." she waved.

"Hey, Chase," said Jack.

"Yes?"

"Come back here tomorrow. I have something about the strike that you can help me with."

"Ok," Chase said excitedly. She finally could help with the strike. "See you tomorrow, then."

Spot was on the dock with Spark. He was laying down looking at the stars. Currently, there was silence. But it wasn't an awkward silence. And Spot like that. They had some time to think.

When he heard footsteps and voices approaching, Spot stood up. Living on the streets of Brooklyn as long as Spot had, he'd learned to be prepared for anything. He relaxed when he saw it was just Chase and Mush coming back from Manhattan.

"Did you have a good time with the Manhattan boys?" Spark asked, sitting up leisurely, not phased after getting startled.

"Yeah," said Chase.

"I hope you won't up and leave Brooklyn to live there." Spot said teasing her, even though he was joking, he really meant it.

"You know I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah," their eyes locked for a second, both of them smiling.

Mush looked at Spark, laughing a little.


	11. Chapter 11

Spot was on the dock with Spark. He was laying down looking at the stars. Currently, there was silence. But it wasn't an awkward silence. And Spot like that. They had some time to think.

When he heard footsteps and voices approaching, Spot stood up. Living on the streets of Brooklyn as long as Spot had, he'd learned to be prepared for anything. He relaxed when he saw it was just Chase and Mush coming back from Manhattan.

"Did you have a good time with the Manhattan boys?" Spark asked, sitting up leisurely, not phased after getting startled.

"Yeah," said Chase.

"I hope you won't up and leave Brooklyn to live there." Spot said teasing her, even though he was joking, he really meant it.

"You know I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah," their eyes locked for a second, both of them smiling.

Mush looked at Spark, laughing a little.

* * *

"So how was your night with your brother?" Spot asked Chase as they walked home.

"Oh, Spot, it was wonderful!" she said, a pretty smile on her face.

Spot smiled back in response. Spark and Story and a few other newsies, who were walking in front of them, whispered to each other rapidly and occasionally looked back at Chase and Spot and giggled. Spot glared at the boys, which shut them up. But Story and Spark weren't intimidated by it, just like Chase. "I was afraid you didn't like Nick, the way you were staring him down."

"Oh- nah. I just didn't know what he was doin' here. Talkin' to you when I know there's anotha' girl who has her sights on him."

"So you weren't jealous of him taking up some of my time?"

"Me? Jealous? Never." said Spot. But Chase knew that wasn't true. "Plus, now I know you guys is family. I couldn't take that away from you."

Chase smiled at him gratefully. But Spot didn't notice, he was distracted by his own memories.

* * *

Spot had a family, once. It wasn't perfect, but it was still family. He grew up in Brooklyn, an only child, to parents who loved him very much.

Before Spot was old enough to go to school, his father took him to work with him most mornings. Spot's father printed papers for "The World" in Manhattan. They crossed the Brooklyn bridge every day.

Most of Spot's childhood friends were newsies who would come to buy the papers. They taught him their games and songs, how to "improve the truth", and he even picked up some of their slang (much to his mother's chagrin; she still wanted to raise him properly even though they weren't part of the rich upper-class anymore). One of Spot's closest friends at the time was a boy who called himself Jack Kelly.

His mother's family hadn't approved her marrying a lower-class newspaper printer, but that didn't stop her from marrying Spot's father. She truly loved him. It seemed as if she was always smiling, always humming, and always laughing. And Spot's father was too. Spot loved to watch his parents talk to each other. It seemed like such a simple, meaningless thing, but Spot was fascinated with their love. It was so perfect that it seemed they were all destined to be together forever. Until one night that all changed.

Spot wasn't supposed to be awake, but he couldn't sleep. Something didn't seem right. He had gone into his parents' room, they were downstairs, to listen to his mother's music box. The tune calmed him down.

Suddenly, he heard shouts and doors slamming downstairs. Spot listened at the bedroom door.

"You owe us, Conlon" a man said.

"I don't know what you're talking about." his father answered.

"Don't make us ask again, Conlon." Said another man. "We'll kill you right here if we have to."

"What's this all about?" Spot heard panic rising in his mother's voice.

"Nothing, honey. Go upstairs, now." Spot's father said, he seemed to keep his cool.

"Ah, ah," Said the first man, Spot heard him cross the room. "A little leverage." There was a click sound, like someone cocking a pistol. Spot didn't know what to do.

"Calm down, dear." Spot could barely hear his father talking. He stopped the music box from playing, but he knocked over a lamp in the process.

"What was that?" said another man.

"You got some backup upstairs, Conlon?"

"Run Spot!" his father exclaimed.

BANG!

There was the sound of a woman screaming, followed by another gunshot.

BANG!

And then the sound of people running up the stairs. Spot grabbed the music box and ran to the window. He'd tried climbing the drainpipe before, but not using one hand. He couldn't let go of the music box, though. He had to try.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he slid down the drain pipe. Spot took off running. He didn't know where he was going, but he didn't stop until he reached the Brooklyn Bridge. He ran up the first tower, threw himself on the ground, and cried. He was only 10 years old and both his parents were dead.

Spot fell asleep within a few hours. Thankfully it was a warm spring night or he would have frozen to death. He was shaken awake by someone. Someone who looked a lot older than him.

"W-who are you?" Spot asked, putting up his fists, ready to take a swing.

"Calm down," The person put their hands up as if surrendering. It was a newsboy with a bag full of papers; Spot thought he recognized him, but he wasn't a Manhattan newsie. "I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Spot stood down but he kept an eye on the newsie. "What's your name, little fella?"

"Spot Conlon." He answered haughtily, he was very proud of his nickname.

"You an orphan?"

Spot almost shook his head but he stopped himself. He was an orphan now. Both of his parents were dead.

"Yes."

"How do you feel about being a newsie?"

It just so happened that the newsie that picked up Spot was the 16 year old leader of the Brooklyn newsies. They all called him Brooks, short for Brooklyn, since he ran almost everything in the city. He had all the connections. Brooks took Spot under his wing right away and made him second in command over the Brooklyn newsies. He taught him how to sell papes (Spot really didn't need help in this category, he'd gotten practice helping his Manhattan friends), he how to fight, how to treat ladies, and how to be intimidating. Brooks really was a nice guy but everyone in Brooklyn, at least all of the newsies, feared him. He got respect that he deserved. Spot learned from the best. Just when Spot was getting the hang of things, the winds changed again.

* * *

It was two years later, Spot was out selling papers in the park when he heard the sound of a brawl. Of course, he had to go check it out. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Brooks was being beaten with a gold-handled cane by a newsie. Other newsboys stood around the two, encouraging them. They were from a rival gang that had sprung up recently. Their leader had it out for Brooks; he wanted a chance to run Brooklyn.

Brooks was on the ground, his face and his clothes were covered in blood, bruises were starting to show on his arms. The harder he tried to get up, the harder it got. Spot snapped out of his trance. He ran toward the rival and snatched the cane out of his hands in one movement. The other newsie had no idea what had just happened.

"Wrong move, Dot." Said the rival. Spot's anger flared. As the newsie came at him, he assessed his position and hit him right in the middle of the chest. His weakest point. The newsboy went down, hitting his head on the curb. He was knocked unconscious. The crowd around him went silent. Spot knelt down by Brooks.

"Thanks, Spot." Brooks said, weakly. In a few minutes, the two newsies, Brooks and his rival, were picked up by an ambulance.

Spot slipped the cane in his belt loop and followed the carriage to the hospital. A kind nurse let him in through the back door to see Brooks.

The leader of the Brooklyn newsies wasn't doing too well.

"Spot, is that you?" Brooks said when he saw Spot come in the room. Brooks was covered in dark purple bruises. His nose was badly broken and he had stitches all through his forehead. His hair was matted with blood.

"Yeah,"

"Nice job out there, you made me proud."

"Um, you're welcome." Spot didn't know what else to say. "What did the doctors say?" Brooks looked uncomfortable with the question.

"They said I have internal bleeding and sixteen broken ribs. They—they don't think I'm gonna make it through the night."

"Oh."

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I have a little time left. Which reminds me. I have something I need to tell ya." Spot stood up straighter. "I'm gonna need you to take care of my city while I'm gone."

"But Brooks, you're gonna get better. Ya have to." Spot wasn't ready to take on the whole city of Brooklyn.

"I think it's my time to go. It's been a fine life. And now I'll get to see my Mom and Pop, tell 'em I'm sorry for leaving home."

Spot didn't want to cry in front of his friend. He couldn't imagine Brooklyn without him though. "You're gonna be a great leader, Spot. I know ya will. The boys will respect you if ya do exactly what I've taught you."

"Ok," Spot said.

"You'll do great."

"Brooks—"

"Tell the boys I'm gonna miss them. Bye Spot." And with that, Brooks, the heart of Brooklyn himself, took his final breath.

The story was all over the newspapers in the morning. The whole city mourned Brooks. Spot's reputation as the fearsome Spot Conlon bloomed overnight. His push had killed the other newsie, rumors spread and were embellished. Soon everyone knew his name.


	12. Chapter 12

Mush woke up happier than he'd been in a while. Things were moving along fine with Spark. And he could visit Brooklyn easily, whenever he wanted, as long as Spot was ok with it. Mush didn't like the idea of Spark being a gypsy, it sounded a little dangerous. He was relieved it wasn't true. He didn't want anything to happen to her.

"Good morning." he said when he arrived at the end of the bridge. The sight of her this morning took his breath away and for a minute he could only stare at her and smile. He didn't really notice the other newsies, including Roselia and Spot watching nearby. "Um... So, should we go then?" he offered her his arm and they headed toward Irving Hall, were Jack told them to meet up to get ready for the rally.

Spark took Mush's arm, she could hear the other newsies and Story talking about them already. She hoped Mush couldn't hear.

"This rally seems like it's gonna be a big deal." She said.

"Yeah, I'm excited. Maybe those big shots'll finally listen to us." said Mush, and then they kept walking in silence, the good kind.

Spot was really distracted, Chase wondered if he was ok. She saw a look on his face that she hadn't seen on him before.

"Spot?"

He was still looking distant. He'd had a dream about his parents' and Brooks's deaths last night. It had been a while since Spot had a nightmare that affected him as much as this since he was very young. "Hmm? Uh, what?"

"Nothing, I guess." She didn't know how to talk to him.

Spot looked at her suspiciously. "You never have nothin' to say."

"I just- What are you thinking about?" The two of them cocked their heads at each other, making themselves laugh.

"Hey, watch it." Spot pushed Chase toward the sidewalk.

A carriage was coming way too close to them on the street. The others stood and watched the scene happen. Chase went down because of Spot's forceful push, tripping over the curb. Just as Spot jumped out of the street, the carriage drove over a deep puddle, entirely soaking him with dirty rainwater.

Mush, Spark, and the others had to suppress a laugh. The murderous look in Spot's eye as he helped Chase up was enough to scare all of them. Spot was not having a good day.

"Hi'ya Chase, Spot." said Jack as the Brooklyn newsies came through the door to Irving Hall.

"Good morning," Chase answered, giving him a sunny smile. Spot tensed up a little at this, which just made Chase smile more.

"Hi, Chase." said David smiling at her too. He stopped when he saw Spot's hostile expression. "Oh, um... Hello, Spot." Chase bit her lip. Spot really didn't like Davey, or maybe, he didn't like the way that Davey was looking at her. That just made her heart beat fast.

"Hey, Dave, why don't you take Story up to the roof with you." Jack smiled knowingly.

"Um…" Story blushed, "I'm not very good with heights."

"That's ok," Jack smacked David hard on the back. Story winced, it looked painful. "Davey'll keep you safe." He winked at her. "Spot, Mush, and Spark, yous can help Race and Blink paint chairs. And Chase, you can come with me. Any of yous others can help clean up the lobby."

Jack took Chase's hand and led her up to the stage, talking about all the things that had to be done before the rally that night. But she wasn't listening. It had been a long time since she'd been in a theatre, the last time was right after she became a newsie. Spot took her to see a vaudeville show because the missed the theatre so much.

Chase stood on the stage and stared out into where the audience would be. The house lights were up and no one was watching, but she still got that feeling she always got before a performance. That rush, it was the best feeling in the world. She couldn't help but smile.

"Um, Chase...?"

"Oh um..." she blushed, looking at Jack. He smiled a little. "I'm sorry, it's just, I love the theatre so much. I get this feeling- I can't explain it."

"Like you're free like the wind and you're gonna live forever?"

"Yes."

"So that's why they call you Chase." Jack laughed a little. Chase opened her mouth to speak again but someone spoke first.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite newsies."

Jack and Chase turned at the same time.

"Good morning, Medda." said Chase.

"You know her?" Jack asked both of them.

"Yes," said Medda. "She came to one of my shows when I was still in Brooklyn."

"And you've moved up since then." Chase gestured to the theatre.

"I know. I'm the leading lady and I own this place. AND I got married too, can you believe that? In three years!" Medda hugged Chase, "You've got a great future ahead of you. I think you'll do the same."

* * *

"Wow, that Roselia is a knockout." Said Blink.

"Tell me, Spot," Racetrack said. "Are you and Rosie over there an item? 'Cause I'd gladly take her off your hands for ya."

Spot glared at Racetrack and Kid Blink. He hated being bossed around. That was his job. And, he hated them teasing him about Chase. Plus he wasn't in a good mood at all.

"Yous two better shut up or I'm gonna have to bust your heads." he said. Some of his newsies straightened to listen if he would call on them. This was a common event in Brooklyn, Spot and his boys would soak kids all the time.

"Touchy subject." Race mused, "Maybe a dame would soften you up a little."

Spot got an amused smirk on has face. "So you're experts on girls? I don't see either of yous gettin' any dames."

Blink was ready to let that comment slide. But he was more laid back and passive than Racetrack.

"I got plenty a' dames." Race was offended. "You're the one with a perfectly good girl who practically worships the ground you walk on and you won't even talk to her!"

"That's it!" Spot pounced on Racetrack, and began pummeling him. Most of the newsies circled them to watch the commotion. Chanting either "Spot!" or "Race!" or alternately, "Soak 'im!". Race fought back just as fierce.

Chase turned to see Spot and Racetrack attacking each other. She ran forward, almost running off the stage. But Jack caught her arm before she could fall.

Mush and Spark dropped what they were doing to see what was going on. They ran to Spot to pull him off of Racetrack.

"Stop it!" Spark yelled, but it was no use. Spot wasn't going to quit now.

They couldn't be fighting during the strike. They would never win if they were killing each other. Another boy, Kid Blink, was also trying to stop the fight.

Mush turned to see that Spark was next to him again.

"This is a disaster. What's gotten into them two?"

He answered her comment,

"I think the boys is nervous about this whole strike thing. You know Brooklyn's havin' a hard time with food and everything. It's not as nice as Manhattan, or so I hear. Spot's probably just at his breaking point." Mush looked at Jack who was talking to Spot and Racetrack now. "I'd hate to be the leader. You know, responsible for everyone. We is a union so we have to stick together." He hugged her back. It was nice for Mush and Spark to be open about their feelings now. Although they hadn't officially said they were going to be a couple, it was understood. They still hadn't gotten a real first kiss though.

Chase stood next to Jack with her arms crossed, glaring at Spot and Racetrack. Leave it to the two of them to tear things apart. She knew Spot's personality, attacking Racetrack was something she knew he would do. And even though she had just met Race the night before, she could tell he was a hot-head too.

"I feel like I'm yous guys' mother," said Jack, "And now I gotta separate yous two. Spot, why don't you go up on the roof and help Dave and Story replace light bulbs on the sign. Racetrack, you can stay here, ya bum." Jack punched Race and Spot's arms.

Spot really was sorry he tried to punk Racetrack after he saw Chase's disappointed expression. He could handle the other girls' frustration with him. Because it was Chase that he really cared about. And he hated taking orders but he obeyed Jack. Hopefully Chase would forgive him.

* * *

"So what do you think about Charles Dickens?" David asked Story. They were bonding over something they both liked to do. Read.

"He's too wordy. It's annoying." Story said as she screwed in a light bulb. David had to books, figuring she got her name from liking books. It was partially true.

"Ok, so how about this: which book do you like better, The Count of Monte Cristo or Les Miserables?"

"Oooh, tough question." Story winced a little, she couldn't decide. "I'm gonna have to say both."

"I completely agree." David smiled, their eyes locked for a minute.

"Hey, Story, will ya hand me some light bulbs?" Spot asked, annoyed.

"Oh, um, yeah." Story giggled. "Now I have a question for you, Mister Jacobs."

"Ok," David smiled bigger, Story was adorable.

"Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn?"

"Tom Sawyer, definitely Tom Sawyer. It's my favorite book. "Romeo and Juliet" or "A Midsummer Night's Dream"?"

"They're completely different!" Story hit David's shoulder playfully.

Spot rolled his eyes. He couldn't think of anything more boring than reading. He spent his whole day reading newspapers, why would he ever want to do for fun? He supposed he was happy for Story though, finding someone who shared her weird interests..

"Just pick." Said David.

"I guess "A Midsummer Night's Dream" because it ends happy. But I always thought Helena and Lysander should have been together. Hermia was annoying and Demetrius was abusive, they deserved each other." Story said.

"I thought that too." David stared at Story with a little smile on his face. Where had she been all his life? "Ok, so how about fairytales?"

"Oh," Story gushed. "They're my favorites!"

"Do you prefer the Grimm versions or the Perrault versions?"

"If I had to choose, I would pick Perrault."

"The Grimm versions are really dark." David remarked. "What's your favorite fairytale then?"

"It's not a Perrault."

"Oh?"

All this sappy intellectual conversation was sickening to Spot. He'd definitely learned his lesson. This was punishment enough.

"Can you guess?"

"Is it a princess story?" David had an uncharacteristically smug smile on his face. He knew he was right.

"Yes. I guess you could call it that."

"Who wrote it?"

"Anderson."

"Hans Christian Anderson." David thought hard. "'The Princess and the Pea'?"

"How boring!" Story laughed.

"The Snow Queen?"

"That's not even a princess story!"

"I give up then," David put his hands up.

"It's 'The Little Mermaid'."

"I thought you liked happy endings. She dies at the end."

"It is happy, she gets a second chance and the opportunity to gain a spirit and get to heaven. I can't think of anything happier." Story smiled.

"I guess I never thought of it that way."

* * *

Chase and Spot and the other newsies walked back to Brooklyn to get ready for the rally. No one said anything, which made it really uncomfortable. But Chase wasn't going to be the first one to say anything. She wasn't on speaking terms with Spot since that afternoon. It broke her heart to do that to him since he clearly looked distraught, but he had to learn that he couldn't just blow up like that and attack his allies. During the strike they had to take all of the help they could get, and destroying relations with the other boroughs would ruin their chances of winning against Pulitzer.

Story and Spark weren't talking either, but that wasn't because of Spot. They were both too busy thinking about Mush and David.

The sisters spent a lot more time getting ready for the rally then they spent getting ready on a normal day.

"How is this blouse?" asked Spark.

"It looks good." said Chase, trying to decide what to do with her hair. Finally choosing to leave it down. Her curls had turned out nicely that day.

"Can I borrow your gray skirt?" said Story.

"Sure."

"But I wanted to wear that one!" Spark protested.

"Don't you guys have your own clothes?" Chase asked.

"Yes." they said at the same time.

"Well then-"

"But they're not as nice as yours." Story said.

Chase sighed and let them rummage through her drawer. She pulled on a dress Ms. Casella helped her find. It was dark blue, like the night sky. And it made her eyes look even more green. It was probably the nicest dress she'd had in years. Ms. Casella also helped her shine her gold heart-shaped locket, her only possession from her upper-class life. After the tarnish was gone, it looked just like it did when she was little. Then, all the newsgirls went downstairs to meet the boys who were waiting. They were off to the rally.

Mush readied himself for the rally, occasionally his thoughts turned to Spark. He wanted to look nice for her tonight.

Mush turned when he heard a disturbance behind him. Racetrack, Kid Blink, and Jack Kelly were covered in shaving cream. Race and Blink were yelling at each other, blaming the other for causing the accident.

"Will yous two just shut up and keep it movin'?" Jack said, grabbing a towel.


	13. Chapter 13

Everyone was surprised with the turnout to the rally. 5,000 newsies from Brooklyn to Trenton had showed up. There was barely enough room to move inside. Mush was at the front with the rest of Jack's and Spot's newsies.

Chase was practically sitting on the stage because of the tight space inside the theatre. She watched closely as Jack and Spot argued about how to continue the strike.

"Any scab I see I soak 'em. Period." said Spot. Chase rolled her eyes, frustrated. He was doing it again, being stubborn.

"No, no. That's what they want us to do. If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands." David cut in.

"Hey, look. They're gonna be playing with my hands, alright. "Cuz it ain't what they say, it's what we say. And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em."

The room erupted with noise as all the newsies went at each other's throats over the subject.

"Spot!" Chase yelled but he couldn't hear her. She was about to jump up on the stage and make him listen to her.

"You got no brains. Why we starting to fight each other? It's just what the big shots wanna see. That we're street rats! Street rats with no brains. No respect for nothing, including ourselves! So, here's how it's gonna be. If we don't act together, then we're nothing. If we don't stick together, then we're nothing. And if we can't even trust each other, then we're nothing." Jack said to everyone.

A lot of the newsies shouted in agreement. "So what's it gonna be?"

Spot looked over at Chase's side of the stage. She looked him right in the eye, pleading with him to listen to Jack. His face was unreadable.

"I say that what you say is what I say." Spot finally answered. Chase could have kissed him right there in front of everyone.

Spark laughed and hugged Mush, something she'd wanted to do for days. He decided to make a bold move and he put his arm around her waist. He managed not to blush.

But then Medda came out to sing and the crowd pressed forward. He and Spark were separated. They made eye contact and he shrugged his shoulders apologetically. She was pushed toward his sister and the other girl newsies.

"Hey, Mush!" His friends called his name.

Mush looked back to Spark, who was already making conversation with the girls. She was in good hands, so Mush jumped up on the stage to join his friends.

The three girls' eyes turned to the center of the floor for a minute. Jack Kelly and Sarah Jacobs, David's sister, were sitting at a table together.

"High times, hard times..." Jack sang to her. The two of them were gazing into each other's eyes.

"That's so romantic." Story said.

"They're so lucky." Spark added.

"...Yeah..." was all Chase could say.

"Any a' you ladies wanna dance?"

The girls stared at the boys for a second. The four boys: Racetrack, Blink, Skittery, and Mush (who had made his way through the crowd) looked exceptionally handsome tonight. Story, Spark, and Chase smiled at each other. The boys looked confused because the girls were communicating with just looks, it made them uncomfortable.

Spark was the first one to move. She smiled at Racetrack, pushed his hat down over his eyes and grabbed his hand. But she figured she would thank him for catching her and apologize for Mush's misunderstanding. She realized she could have ruined their friendship over one little thing.

Mush giving Spark a look of false disappointment, offered Story his hand. He figured he should get to know her if he was going to be with her sister.

Chase looked at Blink and then Skittery, she'd met him earlier that day, and smiled. Skittery looked a little nervous, blushing a little, but both boys still looked like gentlemen in every way. She smiled as they led her up to the stage and they got into an open dance position. She'd danced with two boys at the same time before. Some of the Brooklyn boys got into big fights over who would dance with her. She secretly wished she was dancing with Spot, but Spot never danced. He was talking to David and a lot of other newsies at the table next to Jack and Sarah.

* * *

"You look beautiful." Racetrack said. "Mush is one lucky guy."

"You don't look too bad yourself." Spark teased. He really did look cute, all dressed up for the rally.

"How'd you get your name? Are you an obsessive gambler or somethin'?"

"Ya caught me." He said. "I sell my papes by the tracks so I can bet whenever I want."

"You and Mush on good terms?"

"Yeah, he was a good sport about that the other day." Race said, a look of relief on his face.

"I wouldn't want to be responsible for breaking up your friendship."

* * *

Spot was enjoying himself. The Manhattan boys weren't at all like the pansies he originally thought they were. Every few minutes he glanced over at Chase. She was dancing with Skittery and she looked happy. He kind of wished it was him up there with her.

Just then, he looked up toward the door. A man with white-ish hair wearing somewhat fancy clothes came in. He had cold eyes.

"Is that a friend of yours?" Spot asked David.

"Oh no, that's Snyder. I have to go tell Jack."

"That's Snyder?" Spot's eyes widened. He looked over at Chase, he had to do something.

Spot jumped onto the stage and when Skittery and Blink spun Chase out, he cut in. Chase was giggling and when she opened her eyes she stopped.

"Oh- Spot! I-I wasn't expecting you. Wait, since when do you know how to dance?"

Spot smiled at her. Chase blushed.

"I've been watching you dance for 3 years. You didn't think I would pick it up?" He pulled her in closer. "But this is serious. Don't look, but Snyder is here. In the theatre."

Chase went pale white and her heart raced. "It's ok." Spot said. "Me and Davey made a plan for this kind of thing. Jack's on the run from Snyder too. Yous two are going to go to Medda's dressing room until we can get that-" Spot paused, he wouldn't curse around a girl, especially Chase. "Until we can get him outta here. There's a door that goes outside in the dressing room if you need to escape and Jack will keep you safe."

Chase looked right into Spot's eyes, tears welling up in hers which made her eyes look bright green. But then something changed in her eyes. An intensity that Spot could only associate with defiance.

"No. I can't keep running. I can't let him beat me." she said. Spot pulled her even closer.

"But I can't let him get you. I lo-"

Just then, they heard a police whistle and the room went into chaos. "You have to go now! I'll get the little ones and the other girls. Just go!"

Mush took Story's hand and dragged her over to Spark.

"I need yous to go with the other girls. Please, just do it for me." he told Spark. Mush was really concerned for the girls' safety. He went off to fight. It was war this time, and Mush wasn't really sure that he would make it back. He leaned in to kiss Spark when the crowd was too strong and pulled them away from each other. He nearly fell, almost getting trampled by the mob of people.


	14. Chapter 14

Story froze, panicking when she was separated from her sister as the crowd pushed on.

"I'll meet you backstage!" called Spark as she was carried away in the mob.

Story didn't know where to go or what to do in this crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she saw David standing on the stage. He didn't see a police officer coming at him with a baton.

"Davey!" Story jumped in front of the officer's swing, getting hit full-force in her right eye. She fell on top of David, unconscious.

"Story!" David cried. She had taken a swing for him. She started bleeding a lot. David knelt beside her; he had to get her out of there.

The police officer wasn't finished yet. He grabbed Story's arm and tried to yank her away from David.

Before David could stand up and fight the man, someone beat him to it. The officer was thrown off the stage by another man.

"You ok?" The man asked. He looked young, younger than David's parents, and he had dark hair and kind eyes. He looked familiar to David, but he couldn't remember where he had seen him before. In the newspaper? "I heard the commotion from my house across the street."

David nodded his head.

"I'm fine, but Story…" He trailed off.

"She needs medical attention, now. I'm going to take care of her—" The man said, starting to pick up Story. David hesitated and stood in front of her. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

David shook his head, he stood closer to Story.

"I'm Medda's husband, Mark Gallagher." David realized where he'd seen this man before. At a baseball game with his father and Les. Mark Gallagher played for The Giants.

* * *

Chase made it into the dressing room a few minutes later

"Oh, Chase. You're ok." Spark hugged her as she closed the dressing room door.

But Chase was preoccupied. She escaped the riot completely unscathed, but she shaken from the violence she'd seen. She'd watched Racetrack being dragged unconscious by two police officers after they knocked him out.

Chase sat down in the vanity chair in a daze. The younger newsies were huddled at her feet. Some cried while others just stared blankly like she was doing. _What happened to the right to a peaceful assembly_ _?_ Chase remembered learning about the constitution in school. The newsies hadn't done anything wrong. They hadn't gone into the theatre uninvited. They weren't causing trouble outside, so why were the authorities getting involved?

"Uh, Chase." Spark tried to get her attention.

"Yeah I'm fine," Chase flared. "but those boys aren't. They're getting killed out there." She paced about the room. Everyone stared as she tried to think of a plan. The sounds of the commotion: boys screaming, breaking glass, punches being thrown, confused her thinking even more. "We have get help." she realized she couldn't get the police since they were part of the problem here. "I'll get an ambulance- or the mayor. Or Teddy Roosevelt himself- Nobody stop me now." she said with a fierce glimmer in her eye and opened the back door of the dressing room.

"No, Chase! Don't go!"

Chase ran along the back of the building. Turning into an alley, she came face to face with a fat, but weasel-like man and Mr. Snyder. She took a step back.

"Well, well," said Snyder coming closer. "Rosie, it's been so long. I see since we've last talked you've chosen an honest career. A newsie." he practically spat the word. "You know, I could take you back to your life of comfort, but we have some unfinished business to attend to first." he smiled evilly.

Chase nearly screamed. She turned and ran the other way, there was almost nowhere for her to escape to. Spotting a fire escape ladder at least a foot above her head, she leaped into the air and pulled herself up. Snyder almost caught her ankle, but she kicked him in the face.

* * *

Mush made it out of the building before the bulls got into formation. He was outside the circle of horses. Mush backed up, watching everything happening, he bumped into someone. He turned, putting up his fists.

"Oh, Mush." Spot said, with realization. "I almost killed you." The two of them shared an uneasy laugh for a second when they heard a scream from above.

Chase was on the roof, being pursued by Mr. Snyder. Mush was knocked to the ground by a powerful hit to the back of the head. It was a familiar feeling punch and he heard laughter. Laughter that he heard almost every day. It was the Delancey Brothers. Mush jumped to his feet.

"I got your back," he said to Spot. "Help Roselia!" Mush then went to take on both of the Delanceys at the same time. He'd seen Jack do it hundreds of times. He just hoped Spot could catch his sister.

Mush was doing a good job to hold off the Delanceys, but somehow Oscar got a hold of a police officer's night stick and started beating him with it. He received a forceful blow to the stomach, he couldn't breathe or see from all of the pain.

Chase was running out of places to hide on the roof. She came to the edge.

"Chase, down here!" called Spot, 15 feet below. Her brother was being soaked by two dark figures that she couldn't make out behind him. "I need you to jump, Chase."

She looked behind her. Mr. Snyder was catching up. But the way down looked so far. "I promise I will catch you." Only the look in Spot's eyes convinced her to jump.

Spot held out his arms to catch Chase. But just as she jumped, Morris tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

Chase didn't land in Spot's arms, she hit the ground hard with a sickening crack. Her vision went entirely black for a second. Her entire body had felt the hit to the ground, it was like a vibration that traveled through her. Chase's left leg felt numb and heavy. She tried to stand up, but she almost collapsed. Someone grabbed her arm. She thought it was her brother or Spot but she didn't recognize the dark eyes. Dark eyes with a wicked glint in them.

"And who is this cute little Doll Face?" said the boy.

"Don't touch her." said Mush weakly. He was on the ground behind the boy, clutching his stomach.

"If you don't get your lousy mitts off of her, Delancey, I swear I will-" Spot started. Morris had Spot's hands pinned behind his back.

"You'll what? I'm not gonna hurt her." He reassured them. "I just wanted to do this." Oscar pinned Chase's arms to her sides and kissed her hard on the mouth. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Chase felt her legs give out and she felt dizzy. She collapsed in Oscar's arms. She was so weak she couldn't get away from him.

A whistle sound was what stopped Oscar. He dropped Chase and ran to follow the crowd of police who had caught Jack Kelly. Morris followed as well.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh, Oscar Delancey, you're a pig... Alright now that I got that off my chest, I was looking at my old "Hello, Newsies!" notes and I found out that Mark Gallagher was another character that I brought in from my crossover idea, baseball career and all. Actually, I had Mush and Chase's backstories decided early on too. In the original version Story was paired with Kid Blink and Spark was pared with Racetrack.**


	15. Chapter 15

Spot picked himself up off the ground and ran to Chase's side. Chase spit on the ground to get the taste of Oscar Delancey out of her mouth.

"Spot?" her eyes weren't focusing.

"Yeah, it's me." he said grabbing her hand. She felt too warm.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it back to Brooklyn."

Spot gave a brittle laugh.

"That's ok," he said. "You'll be fine. I don't think Kloppman will mind if you stay at the Manhattan lodging house tonight."

Chase smiled weakly at him.

David let Mark Gallagher take Story, he still had to go find Jack and he knew Medda and Mark would make sure Story got the attention she needed.

Mark saw another girl, lying on the ground outside the theatre. Two boys were kneeling by her.

"What happened to her?"

Spot jumped in front of Chase defensively. But the man asked them for help, Story was hurt too, and he wanted to help Chase. Spot stayed by Chase's side with the man, who was Medda's husband, apparently, and a famous baseball player.

Mush went to pick up Story and help Mark carry her to his house when he was stopped by a police officer, who was rounding up the rest of the newsies and taking them to jail.

Spot was about to go help him when another officer grabbed him and dragged him away.

"Chase! Chase, you're gonna be ok!" he called out as he fought the officer until he was shoved into a black carriage.

David ran outside, following the crowd when Jack was taken by the police. He saw Mark sitting on the ground next to Story and another girl; he couldn't tell if she was Spark or Chase.

"Will you help me get them inside?" Mark asked.

Without answering, David picked up Story. A dark bruise covered the whole right side of her face and she was still bleeding.

Chase went unconscious from the pain as Mark carried her to the door of his and Medda's house. Her leg was broken badly and she had a high fever. They needed the doctors now.

Story went in and out of consciousness through the night. Almost every time she woke up, she vomited. And she couldn't keep her head up for long. She would get dizzy and then pass out again. Later she would vaguely remember someone by her bedside holding her hand…

* * *

About 30 boys had been arrested at the rally. And they were all crammed into a small jail cell. None of them were able to get any sleep. Jack was put someplace else. The bulls were probably afraid he would try to make a plan and escape like he did at The Refuge.

Mush sat in the corner of the cell. Spot sat by him too. But he never said a word. A couple times, Mush thought he heard Spot cry. He couldn't tell though, Spot had his face in his hands. And when Mush did hear Spot's muffled sobs, he couldn't help but cry too. But he didn't try to hide it.

A few hours later an officer came to get the newsies and take them to the trial.

Spot snapped back to his usual, intimidating self at the trial. He didn't want the bulls to see that he was beaten. That didn't stop him from worrying about Chase though. It appeared that neither the judge or the bulls cared if any of them were in bad condition. They just wanted to send all the newsies to The Refuge to get the trial to move along.

"Are any of you boys represented by council? No? Good, that will move things along considerably." Judge Monahan said, echoing Spot's thoughts.

"Hey, your honor, I object!" He glared at him.

"On what grounds?"

"Oh the grounds of Brooklyn, your honor." Spot smiled for real that time.

"I fine each of you 5 dollars, or 2 weeks confinement in the House of Refuge." said Judge Monahan.

Mush and Spot joined in with the other newsies' laughter, but they shared a nervous look. None of them could pay for that.

"Alright. Move along move along."

Denton, Les, and David came into the room.

"Your honor, I'll pay the fines. All of them." said Denton.

"Hey, you fellas alright?" David asked. "Where's Jack?"

"Look, we've got to meet at the restaurant. Everybody. We have to talk." Denton told them.

"We'll meet the guys there," said Mush. "We should—we should probably check on the girls."

"I gotta see Chase." Spot's voice wavered a bit. "I d- I don't think she's doin' too well."

Denton helped Spot and Mush get to Medda's house. They rode in the carriage. Spot couldn't ever remember riding in a carriage this nice before. But he was too anxious to take it all in.

Spot and Mush went to the door and talked to Mark, but that was as far as they would dare to go. Spot was worried his generally calm exterior would crack permanently. He hadn't cried this much in forever. Plus, Chase wasn't conscious. That would make him feel worse.

"H-how are they doin'?" Spot asked shakily.

"They're doing fine." Mark said. "right now they just need some rest."

Mush and Spot got back into the carriage with Denton and they headed to the restaurant.

"Thanks for bailing us out." Mush said when they got inside. But then after that both he and Spot were too preoccupied to comprehend anything that was going on.

* * *

A million thoughts were going through David's mind. He didn't know what to think about anyone. Betrayal. That's what he felt. He felt betrayed by Jack because he lied to him about his past. He felt betrayed by Denton because he didn't get the story in print. Most of all, he felt betrayed by the press. It was a stupid thing to feel, but he felt it. The power of the press was supposed to give him a voice. It said that in the Constitution of the United States. It was his right. All of the newsies' rights. And it was unjustly taken away.

David couldn't dwell on that now. There was only one answer he could get at the moment and he was going to get it however he could.

"Why didn't "The Sun" print the story?" He asked Denton.

"Because it never happened." Denton said.

Racetrack and Kid Blink spoke up next.

"What do you mean it never happened? You where there!"

"You wrote it!"

"It's not in the papers, it never happened. The owners decreed it not be in the papers, therefore I came to tell you fellas goodbye." Denton couldn't look any of them in the eye.

"What happened? Did you get fired or something?" David asked, concerned.

"No, I got reassigned back to my old job as "The Sun"'s ace war correspondent." Denton said with a smile plastered on his face. "They want me to leave right away. The owner thinks I should only cover the really important stories. Wish me luck fellas. At least half of what I wish for you."

That wasn't a good enough answer for David. He was angry.

Denton turned to him. "They don't always fire you. I would be blackballed from every paper in the country. I'm a newspaper man. I have to have a paper to write for." His voice softened and he looked almost sad. "This is the story I wrote about the rally. I want you to read it at least."

David crumpled up the paper as soon as he saw Denton leave. Still feeling betrayed. He knew who his real friends were.

"We get Jack out of the Refuge tonight. From now on, we trust no one but the newsies." And he led the boys outside to come up with a plan.


	16. Chapter 16

When Chase finally woke up, it was dark outside. She had no idea where she was. All she knew was , she couldn't lift her left leg very far and she got a splitting headache when she tried.

"Oh, good. You're up." Story said. She was finally able to sit up in bed without getting dizzy or throwing up. Medda had given her a book of fairytales to keep her occupied.

"Oh, goodness! What happened to you?!" Chase was startled when she saw Story's face. The whole upper right side was covered in a dark purple bruise. She had stitches running from the inner corner of her right eye, down to her cheekbone.

"It happened at the rally." Story said. She didn't want to talk about it.

* * *

Spot fell asleep against the statue while the Manhattan newsies came up with their plan. Normally he would have taken the lead from there. He didn't like the idea of Jack being the leader of the strike, so David was even worse. But Spot was absolutely exhausted. Mush decided to let him sleep there. He needed it (actually, Mush needed it too but he was too worked up to sleep).

A few hours later David, Mush, Racetrack, Boots, Kid Blink, and Les were standing in an alley in front of the Refuge.

"That's the window where we saw Crutchy." David said.

The door of the Refuge opened and the boys went deeper into the shadows so they wouldn't be seen. Jack was being shepherded into a black carriage like the one that took him to the Refuge in the first place.

"It's Jack!" Les exclaimed too loud.

"Where are they takin' him, Dave." Mush asked.

"Only one way to find out," David answered. "I'll meet you guys at the square. Racetrack, watch him."

"So, what do we do now?" Racetrack asked.

"I gotta go see my sister and Story. They got hurt at the rally."

"Oh, no."

"Where are they?" Blink asked.

"Medda and her husband are takin' care of them. We should go get Spot first."

The boys made their way back to the square in silence. Not even Les and Boots were talking. Spot was just waking up when they got to the statue.

"What is it, Mush?" Spot said, bracing himself for more bad news.

"They're movin' Jack someplace else. Davey stayed back to see where they're takin' him." Mush said, Spot exhaled. "We're gonna go see Chase and Story, wanna come?"

Spot nodded and he followed them back to Medda's house.

"The girls are doing much better." Mark said when he saw Mush and Spot at the door. "Come on in and make yourselves at home." The five boys stopped when they walked in the door, amazed at what they saw. It was so nice. "They will want to see you." he said.

They followed Mark upstairs, still gaping at all the finery. Mark knocked on a door at the end of the hallway.

"Come in," The boys recognized Chase's voice.

Chase let out a small scream when the door opened. She wasn't expecting the boys to come up and see them, and she and Story were in their nightgowns. It wasn't proper for the boys to see them like that.

"Ah! Nick, Spot! Go away." she blushed, pulling the covers over her.

Spot and Mush would have blushed as well if they weren't so pale from nerves. It had been a very stressful day.

Mark shut the door and the newsies waited for Chase and Story to get dressed.

* * *

"I was so worried about you." Mush said to Chase as the door opened again. "Why did you-"

"I don't know." Chase cut him off. "I couldn't just sit there while you and the others were getting beaten. I know, it was a stupid mistake."

Story had gotten out of the door fine, but a few seconds past the threshold she felt faint and her vision filled with black spots.

"Whoa," said Blink. "You need some help there?"

"Yes, thank you." Racetrack and Blink helped her down the steps. "Um, has anyone heard anything about Spark?"

"We were hoping one a' yous had." said Mush.

Chase tripped, almost taking Mush and Spot down with her. She couldn't believe how selfish she was the night of the rally.

"I-I didn't see her after I left the dressing room." Chase's eyes widened. She hoped nothing happened to her friend. She wouldn't wish her pain on anyone.

"I'm sure she's fine." Spot said. "Spark's a tough girl, and she usually listens to me." He looked at Chase who gave him a guilty smile.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you ever do that again, ya hear?" Spot said to her sternly. She would make sure she'd listen next time.

The boys helped Chase and Story downstairs into a fancy room with a fireplace. They felt too low-class to sit on such nice furniture, but they were all exhausted.

Spot perched on the arm of the chair that Chase was sitting on. He looked to Medda and then to Mark.

"Do you know- is she ever gonna be able to dance again."

Spot couldn't imagine Chase not dancing. She would be lost without her dancing and he would be too.

"It's hard to say-" Mark started. Medda smacked him playfully on the shoulder, a smile on her face.

"Of course she'll be able to dance again. The doctor said in a few months she'll be able to walk without the brace. I don't see why she wouldn't be able to."

"What happened after we- left the rally?" Left wasn't really the best word, but Story couldn't think to hard or her head would hurt.

The boys explained everything to Story and Chase. How the newspapers wouldn't print anything about the rally, how Jack's true identity was revealed.

"And what about David. Did he get arrested too?"

"He wasn't arrested." Spot said.

"Yeah, I guess he made it outta there and went home for the night." Mush added.

"You don't remember anything about last night?" Medda asked Story.

"Not much," she said. "I remember throwing up a lot." Racetrack and Blink, who were sitting on either side of Story slid farther from her. She raised an eyebrow at their ridiculousness. "And I think there was someone in the room with me, but I can't remember because I would fall back asleep again."

"David was here all night, by your side." said Medda.

Story blushed. A lot. But then she had to lay her head on Blink's shoulder. The room was spinning.

Mush looked from Story to Chase to everyone else in the room. Why would Pulitzer even go this far. They were still kids, after all. Chase and Story could have died. All for 1 tenth of a cent. Racetrack, Blink, and even Spot looked hopeless and dejected. But Mush was filled with anger.

"We gotta do somethin' about this! Pulitzer and Hearst probably think we're finished. That we'll quit, but we can't."

"What are you suggestin' we do, Mush?" asked Spot.

"We keep goin'. We're gonna win this for Story and Roselia and Crutchy and all the other kids who were beaten."

"And those Delanceys," Spot's eyes were practically glowing with fury. "If I ever see those mugs around I'm gonna kill them-"

Chase put her hand on Spot's arm. She looked really uncomfortable when Spot mentioned the Delancey brothers. "or we'll get 'em locked up or somethin'."

He stroked Chase's hair to calm her. Chase was so tired, she started drifting off again.

Les and Boots were starting to fall asleep too. They looked like cats, all curled up on the rug in front of the fire.

"We better get them home." Mush said. He had to carry Les over his shoulder because he wouldn't wake up. "Tomorrow, we'll think of a plan."

* * *

Spot didn't want to leave Chase. She'd fallen into a troubled sleep and he didn't want anything to happen to her.

"Spot, do you want to spend the night here?" Medda could tell he really loved Chase.

"Thank you," Spot said gratefully.

He carried Chase to the couch. Medda and her husband got him blankets. He laid on the floor next to the couch so he could keep an eye on Chase. Spot and Story talked for a few hours. And he even let her read from that book of fairy tales she had. Both of them were so tired but they couldn't sleep.

"You think we're gonna win?" Story asked him.

"I don't know." he said. "I really don't."

Spot had just started drifting off when he heard whimpers. He jumped up to check on Chase. She was burning up.

"Medda!"

Story woke up with a start at Spot's cries for help.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Chase- she- I- and-" He lost his ability to form sentences.

Story felt Chase's head with the back of her hand.

"Ok, calm down, Spot." She started, but she was shaking too. "We need to cool her down fast."

Spot picked Chase up and followed Story upstairs to the bathroom where she filled the tub with cold water. Chase was limp in his arms. It was all he could do not to cry again. He'd seen a couple of newsies die from high fevers like this. He dropped Chase in the freezing cold water, with her dress still on, and grabbed Story's hand.

"It's gonna be ok." Story said, squeezing his hand.

"I- I know." said Spot.

Medda called the doctor right away and he got to work as soon as he entered the house. Spot didn't leave the room until he had to, when Chase had to take off her dress. He paced the hallway outside of the bathroom, wide awake now. Thinking about everything that could possibly happen to her. Nothing positive ever crossing his mind. Chase, Medda, and the doctor came out about an hour later.

"She's going to be fine," said the doctor. "Her temperature went up because she was having a bad dream." Spot calmed down when he heard this.

"I-it was a-awful." Chase stuttered, Spot couldn't tell if it was from the cold or fear. He put his arms around her and made to pick her up and take her downstairs. It would be inappropriate if he went with her to the guest room. "I d-don't want you c-carrying m-me."

"What do you mean? I-"

"I c-can get d-down mys-self." Chase snapped.

"At least let us help you." Story said.

Chase reluctantly agreed. She still hadn't gotten used to her crutch yet. Of course, she hadn't been walking much because she was unconscious and weak most of the day.

Spot made sure Story and Chase were comfortable and he laid back down on the floor.

"D-don't leave m-me." said Chase, it sounded like she was crying. Spot sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap with his arms around her.

"Shhhh, it's ok. I'm here." he said.

"Every time I c-close my eyes I s-see those two t-t-tr-" She shook, sobbing.

"Hey," Spot said. "It's going to be alright. I'll protect you. You won't have to worry about them ever again."

"I love you, Spot."

Spot couldn't tell if she meant it or if she was delirious from the fever.

"I love you too," he whispered. "Roselia."

* * *

 **A/N: Finally, a declaration of love!**


	17. Chapter 17

Story woke with the sunrise. Her head still hurt and she hoped it wouldn't be like this for the rest of her life. It seemed like the pain was never ending.

A few minutes later Spot woke up, realizing Chase was still in his arms. He blushed when he saw Story looking at him and Chase. He smiled as she helped him get up, trying not to wake Chase. Medda gave him breakfast, the first time he'd eaten since before the rally. And he left to continue the strike with the newsies.

Spot pushed through the crowd until he found Mush

"How are the girls?" Mush asked He was so worried.

"Story's perfectly fine. R- Chase woke up in the middle of the night with a high fever, but the doctor fixed her up. It was just because of a bad dream."

"So they made it through the night." Mush was relieved.

"Yeah," Spot was having a hard time hiding his smile.

Spot turned to break up a fight between two of the younger newsies. His mood changed when he saw Jack Kelly come out of the circulation gates dressed in a new suit.

"Hey, Race, come here."

"What?"

"Tell me I'm seein' things. Just tell me I'm seein' things."

"No, you ain't seein' things," said Racetrack. "That's Jack. What's he doin'?"

"He's dressed like a scabber."

Mush wanted to cry. Jack couldn't leave the strike. Not now.

"Jack? Jack, look at me, will ya? Come on, it's me, Mush. Look at me. What are you doin', Jack?"

"He sold us out!" Spot was livid.

"I'll give you a new suit! Ya bum! I'll soak ya!" Racetrack yelled.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'll get my hands dirty." Spot ran at Jack, but the bulls pulled him away. "Come here you dirty rotten scabber!" Spot was pushed to the back of the mob, shouting curses the whole time.

* * *

Chase woke up with butterflies in her stomach. Contrary to what Spot had thought, Chase wasn't all that delirious in the middle of the night after her ice bath. She knew exactly what she was saying to him. She knew right then and there that she absolutely loved Spot. And the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, and how he talked about her… He would do anything for her, so she hoped he felt the same way. Chase seized the day and told Spot just what she was feeling.

"Miss him already?" Story asked, peering over her book.

"Mmhmm…" Chase was staring into space, daydreaming. "He loves me." She whispered. It was strange to say. Strange to imagine someone (other than Nick, her only family) loved her and that she loved him.

"Chase? Hey, Chase!" Story had to hit her to get her to snap out of it.

"Hmm? What?"

"I think I'm gonna go out to the strike today." Story avoided Chase's eye contact, not knowing what her friend would say.

"No, you can't!" Chase said. "I don't want anything else to happen to you."

"But I have to find my sister. And, I want to- I want to go-"

"You want to see David." Chase narrowed her eyes, but she realized she would probably be the same way if she hadn't just seen Spot. "If you're going, I'm going."

Chase struggled to get up, smacking Story's hand away when she tried to help her up. She had to figure this out on her own. Finally finding her balance, Chase took a step. And then another one. And then another one. But on the third step, her crutch slipped on the hardwood floor and she fell on her butt.

"Ah!" she winced. "Never mind, I'm not going. You better take care of yourself. I'm not going to be the one that tells Davey his girl got hurt again."

Story blushed as she helped Chase back to the couch. "I'm not his girl-"

"Not yet."

* * *

The truth was, Story's head was pounding. She had to stop and lean against a wall every few minutes to keep from fainting. Priorities came first. Story knew what it was like to be living on the streets with nothing. She knew what pain was. She could sympathize with other people. And when she could think about others, her own pain wasn't as bad.

She came to the mob of newsies just as Spot was being dragged to the back.

"Spot, what happened?" She grabbed his arm as he tried to make his way to the front again.

"It's Jack, I'm gonna murder that grafter! He's a scab! That-" Spot stopped to clean up his language. "I can't take this."

"What do you mean?"

"He took a bribe from Pulitzer. He's workin' with the big shots now."

Story's world was spinning. "There's no way-"

"Yeah there is. I saw it myself." Spot picked up his cane, tapping it on the ground as a way to control his anger. He was going to kill someone one of these days.

"Why would Jack do that? He was the one who started the strike?"

Spot ignored Story's question and continued ranting. "I'm goin' back to Brooklyn. I'll finish this strike myself if I have to." Spot raged. "Take care of Chase for me, will ya?"

"Spot! No, you can't-" But he was already gone.

Mush spotted Story in the crowd. He ran up and hugged her, still feeling hurt because of Jack. And he was still so worried about Spark.

"You ok?" he asked as she fell against his chest.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm ready for this." She said.

"You don't get out of bein' a newsie without a few scars and black eyes." Mush winced along with Story. "Want me to walk you back?"

"No, I think I can make it." As Story turned to leave, Mush spoke.

"You shouldn't have gotten hurt. That was my fault, I knew it wasn't a good idea invitin' the girls. You'd be fine and we would know where Spark was by now." Mush had been beating himself up about that since the rally. Story. Spark, and Chase's safety shouldn't have been sacrificed for the strike.

* * *

Story arrived back at Medda's about an hour later. She had to stop a lot on the way back. She thought she was going to die from all of these headaches.

"Feelin' any better?" She asked Chase as she flopped on the couch next to her. Chase had been reading her book.

"A little. Did you see Spot?"

"Yeah I saw him."

"And?"

"He went back to Brooklyn."

Chase put her head in Story's lap and cried until she fell back asleep.

* * *

Spot returned to Brooklyn twice as enraged than when he left Manhattan. No one dared cross his path. He walked all the way to the pier shouting curses and swinging his cane and kicking the ground. Everyone thought he was losing it.

Spark was up on his crates talking to a group of the older newsies. They were trying to figure out what to do next. Spot stomped all the way up to the top crate and sat down.

"Oh, Spot!" Spark cried, tears in her eyes. She had been trying to keep it together in Brooklyn, but her leadership skills were exactly as she remembered: terrible. "Is Story alright? I didn't see-"

"Yeah, she's fine." Spot leaned back on the crate (Dangerously so. If he leaned back any farther he'd fall in the river.) with his eyes closed and his entire body was tensed with frustration.

"What's-"

"Nothin'. It's nothing'." Spot gave a bitter laugh. "Just the fact that Jack Kelly left the strike to be a scab. Other than that everything's just ducky!"

Spark jumped back at the way Spot snapped at her. That, and because of the shock of hearing Jack left the strike.

"What? That's not-"

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Jack- Kelly- Is- A- SCAB!"

Spark took a deep breath, fighting back tears. It was hopeless. With their leader gone, all the newsies could do was give in to Pulitzer and Hearst or die.

"Wha- What ab- about Chase?"

Spot felt like the floor dropped from under him. "I d- I didn't-"

"Is she ok?"

"Yeah, she was when I… When I left." Spot couldn't believe himself. He promised Chase he wouldn't leave her and then he left. "What have I done?" Spot glanced at the river, briefly thinking about jumping in. That wouldn't help him or Chase though. "Go get me a cigar or a beer or somethin'"

"What?"

"I need somethin' to distract me from all this. Just go." Spot leaned back in his throne and pushed his hat down over his eyes.

Spark sat up straighter, staring at the Brooklyn leader in unbelief. "No!" She said.

"Don't talk to me like that." Spot grabbed her wrist. Hard.

Spark took all of her strength to pull herself out of Spot's grip. Almost causing herself to fall backwards into the river, taking him with her.

"I'm not getting you a beer." She flared. "My best friend and my sister are in Manhattan. This strike is a disaster. And YOU," It was Spot's turn to jump back. "You're just thinkin' about yourself. You are SPOT CONLON, leader of the BROOKLYN newsies! You're the KING! No one messes with you and no one messes with Brooklyn. You got a lot a' people lookin' up to you. People, like me, that depend on you. I can't do this by myself! I don't even know how you and Chase keep us all in order."

Spot stared at her. His bright blue eyes meeting hers with an intensity that would have scared her before. But not today. "We can't just quit now. Since when are you a quitter? The last fight you got in, you almost killed the poor guy you were fightin' because you wouldn't stop."

Spot still stared at her. He had no response to that.

"Now, get off your lazy, arrogant, butt. We've got work to do."

Spot blinked at her. "Alright, then."


	18. Chapter 18

David refused to say a word to anyone. If he talked, he knew he would either murder someone, unintentionally (he was always a very passive boy) or cry. Neither options were a good idea to get into now.

Now, he really had been betrayed by the people who needed to help him with this strike. No one would listen to him if it was just him. That's how his life had always been. He was a middle child, used to sharing, and he didn't mind it. The strike was the first time he'd ever tried to take charge of something, of course it helped that Jack shared the responsibility of leadership. But now, everyone depended on only him and it was overwhelming. He didn't even have Spot there to help him out.

There wasn't much energy in the strike that day. Some boys from the other boroughs had even left to become scabs, not even worried whether they would be soaked or not. Jack Kelly's newsies (minus Jack Kelly) were almost the only ones left.

David went home early, dragging a reluctant Les behind him. He sat on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. He really wished Les and Sarah would just leave so he could have some time to think on his own.

"Les," said Sarah as she rummaged through the top drawer of the dresser in the room. "What is this?"

Sarah produced a hot dog wrapped in a scrap of newsprint.

Les took the food from her, leaving the paper. "I'm savin' it."

She rolled her eyes glancing at the paper. "David, it's Denton's article." she said. "'The Dark Truth; Why Our City Really Fears The Newsies Strike' by Bryan Denton. 'Last night I saw naked force exercised against mere boys, the newsies, who were…'"

Before Sarah could finish her sentence David hopped out the window to the fire escape and slammed the it shut. The article was a bitter reminder that David had no one left to trust. He had to come up with a plan and with no one left to confide in, David would have to do it on his own.

* * *

Mush needed a break from all the stress. After the newsies disbanded for the night, he decided to go back to Medda's to spend time with Roselia. He needed it.

When he got there, Story and Roselia were sitting on the couch talking.

"Hey'ya girls." he said.

"Hey, Nick." Rosie said, sitting up. Neither of them could call each other by their newsie names. It was too strange. "What have you been up to?"

"Same thing I did yesterday and the day before and the day before." He smiled a little, but Roselia could tell by looking at his eyes that it wasn't sincere.

Mush sat down next to her and leaned his head on her shoulder. "Do you think it's a lost cause?"

She gave him a playful nudge. "Of course not! I don't know about you, but there's still some fighting left in me."

This was definitely a departure from her hopeless tears the day before, Story noticed.

"Oh, no. You're not goin' anywhere near the strike."

Rosie pouted, glancing at the brace on her leg and then she kicked the crutch over, which was leaned against the couch. "It's not like I have a choice. I don't think I could make it out the door."

Mush hugged his sister. "You're gonna be able to walk normal again, you just have to get used to-"

"Maybe I don't wanna get used to it!" Roselia snapped.

Mush stared at her for a minute, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"What are you staring at?" she asked.

"You're a different girl than the Roselia I knew 8 years ago." Mush laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Mush sighed. "Nothin', I guess." He put his arm around her. "Look at the mess we've gotten ourselves into."

"I don't see how any of it is our fault." Rosie relaxed, closing her eyes.

"You're right. It's not."

* * *

8 years before, on a summer night just like this one, Rosie and Nick's parents were killed in a fire.

The two children were woken up in the middle of the night by maids. The rest of the house staff was bustling around.

"What's happening?" Nicholas asked, but no one stopped to answer.

Nick and Roselia were dressed and pushed into a carriage.

"Are we going to the seashore?" Rosie asked a maid before the door was slammed shut. Sometimes Roselia and Nicholas would wake up at their house by the sea, magically dressed and ready for a day at the beach, their parents loved to surprise them.

Nick, although he was only 8 years old, could tell something wasn't right. This wasn't their carriage, and where were their parents? He looked up, a man he didn't recognize was sitting across from him and Rosie. Nick put a protective arm around his sister.

"Who are you?"

The man turned his eyes toward Nicholas and Roselia. "I'm Mr. Seitz."

"Wh-where are we going?" Roselia stammered, they definitely weren't going to the seashore.

"You're going to go see Mr. Pulitzer, something's happened."

Roselia squeezed Nicholas's hand. Nick and Rosie had only met Mr. Pulitzer once, at a party their parents had put on. All they could remember was that he was a loud and intimidating man that their father worked for.

"What's happened?" Nick narrowed his eyes, this man was keeping something from them.

Mr. Seitz wouldn't say anything.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a grand mansion. Mr. Seitz took each of the childrens' hands and led them up to a door. Once inside, they heard a man yelling from upstairs.

Rosie tried to pull away from Mr. Seitz's grip, to stand near her brother, but he wouldn't let her.

Mr. Seitz led the children upstairs, where the yelling was the loudest, and knocked on a door.

The yelling stopped.

"Come in." Nicholas recognized the voice as Mr. Pulitzer, unmistakable from the only time he had met him.

The office room was huge. Seated behind a large mahogany desk was Mr. Pulitzer himself. To the left, behind the desk was a young woman sitting behind small table with a typewriter. She looked quite flustered.

Nicholas put on his bravest face and pulled his hand away from Mr. Seitz's grip and hugged Roselia to calm her down. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Sit." Mr. Pulitzer said, not looking at either of them.

There was only one chair in front of the desk. Nick let Rosie sit down and he stood beside her, holding her hand for comfort. Mr. Pulitzer stared at the two of them for a while. His eyes boreing into theirs

"Do you know why you are here?"

"No- sir." Nick remembered his manners. This was his father's boss, after all.

"Well then, this should be interesting." Mr. Pulitzer said, too loudly to himself. "Your parents are dead."

"What?!" and Roselia started to cry, clinging to Nicholas. Nick felt the floor drop from under him. This couldn't be happening. His parents weren't gone.

"Died in a fire tonight. It's a shame, one of my best journalists gone. But great headline for tomorrow." There was no emotion in Pulitzer's voice. "Will you get her to shut up?"


	19. Chapter 19

Mush left the girls a few hours later. Remembering the night he and Roselia had been separated had only made him feel worse.

He was grateful to have her back, he loved her so much. Maybe it was better for him to forgive and forget.

The streets were silent that night, there wasn't a soul out. The only sound came from Mush's footsteps and the breeze which occasionally blew torn scraps of newspapers around. Mush took a shortcut through Central Park. He hadn't been back there since the day he and Spark hid in that tree. He missed the familiarity, the routine of selling newspapers. Mush wanted the strike to be over so he could have his job back.

Mush turned out of the park, only to find he had gone the wrong way and ended up at the wealthy part of New York. As he went to turn back, he heard a man speak.

"Hey, boy!"

Mush jumped.

"Are you a newsie?"

Mush stared at the dark figure before him, crossing his arms. "Who wants to know?"

"Come with me."

The man grabbed Mush's arm. Mush, of course, pulled away.

"You're not in trouble."

"Well, I ain't a child neither." Mush spat. "I don't need someone to hold my hand."

"Fair enough." The man took a few steps and then turned to see that Mush wasn't following him.

"Who are you and where are you trying to take me?"

"Johnathon Pembermuffin, accountant for Mr. Joseph Pulitzer."

"And are you takin' me to see Pulitzer?"

Pembermuffin didn't say a word, he just kept walking.

Mush thought for a moment. The strike has to be settled one way or another. So he followed him.

The streets on this side of town were a little brighter. The gas lamps were always lit. Warm light shown through curtains. Music could be heard through some doors. Mush's old house couldn't have been more than four blocks away. In fact, he knew it was closer. They passed the old Catholic church Mush and Roselia traveled by every day just eight years before.

Mush was tempted to ditch Pembermuffin and turn down the road and find his old house. It felt like he would be able to just walk right in and life would be just like it was before. Except it wouldn't be. His parents were gone. Roselia was at Medda's, hurt. And he was a guttersnipe.

Being a newsie had taught Mush a lot of things. He'd grown to appreciate the little things (like new shoes with matching laces). He didn't need to be part of the upper class. It was a comfortable life, yes. Life as a newsie was hard work but it was doable. Mush, up until recently, had everything he needed. Selling papes was fun. Mush liked being independent, making his own living. And besides, he didn't want to become a greedy old man like Pulitzer.

Mush and Pembermuffin came upon a huge mansion. He'd been there only once, eight years ago. Mush's stomach turned, remembering that horrible event for the second time that night. There was no turning back now.

When the door opened, Mush felt an overwhelming feeling of Deja vu. All the lights in the house were ablaze, the staff was running around, and the sound of Mr. Pulitzer's shouting echoed through the walls of the mansion.

"Oh dear." Said Jonathon.

Without waiting, Mush stomped up the long staircase and pounded on the door he knew was Pulitzer's office (the yelling gave it away too).

The yelling stopped.

"Come in."

Mush threw open the door to find a scene almost identical to the one so many years ago. Hannah, Pulitzer's secretary, was typing on her typewriter, looking frazzled as ever. Mr. Pulitzer was seated behind his mahogany desk. The only difference was the presence of a few more men seated on the couches.

Mr. Seitz, who was standing nearby, shut the door as Jonathon came in.

"Welcome back-"

"Nicholas, sir." Said Mr. Seitz.

"Nicholas."

"Wha'da ya want with me?" For what Mr. Pulitzer had done, Mush didn't think he deserved respect.

"I believe your birthday is coming up." Pulitzer flipped through his desk calendar and pointed to the date of Mush's birth.

That wasn't at all what Mush had expected to hear but he kept his poker face on. "So?"

Mr. Pulitzer laughed a little. "I made a promise to you when your parents died and I always keep my promises. I told you that in eight years I would decide whether to hire you as an official employee of "The World". As of today, that offer's still standing."

Mush stared straight ahead. This was unexpected. He thought the old man would've forgotten by now.

"Interesting that you choose right now to talk to me about it, what with your declinin' circulation." He crossed his arms. "Thanks, but I'm gonna have to decline that offer. I've been doin' fine on my own. Probably good for you, save a few extra pennies." He couldn't help but smile at his witty remark.

Mr. Pulitzer muttered something under his breath about 'ungrateful young men nowadays'. "You're part of this strike. I've seen your name in the papers."

"You'd buy papes from a rival?"

"I'll do anything to get to the top."

"Which is why you'd steal honest money from poor orphaned children?"

"Don't talk back to me, boy!" He shouted. Mush raised an eyebrow. "Your runaway sister, I hear she's injured."

"Yeah." Where was he going with this?

"How do you expect to pay for her medical bills? If she isn't treated properly, accidents happen, she could die and that would be all your fault."

Mush hadn't thought of this before. He had read stories in the papers of the deaths of children close to his age. It hadn't seemed real, just something written by the journalists. He didn't need to worry about them, he just had to sell his papes to live. This was too close a story for him. His sister's life was on the line now. How would he support her?

"Sell papers for me again and you'll be sure she'll be in the proper care. I'll call up my own doctor if you want." Pulitzer started dialing a number on the telephone. "In a few years you'll have enough money to go wherever you want. Out west, perhaps?" So Pulitzer knew of Jack's dream. "I'm sure it's much better than where the strikers are going. I expect you to be at the circulation gates early tomorrow morning and in the evening, come to my office for your salary."

Something wasn't right about this. "No!"

Mr. Pulitzer slammed the telephone down. "You will do as I say!"

"I'm not gonna be a scab while my friends is starvin'!"

"Then you'll go to The Refuge with the rest of them. Seitz, get the carriage ready. Warden Snyder's going to get another charge tonight."

Before Mr. Seitz could rise from his seat, Mush was out the door. He sprinted down the street, not caring whether they were following him. They wouldn't know where he was going in this darkness. Plus, none of them would want to step foot in his part of town at night. Mush had to get back to the lodging house. There was something his friends needed to know.

Mush flew through the lodging house door and locked it, finally collapsing on the counter.

"Is Mush Meyers finally being chased by a girl instead of vice versa?" Racetrack stood up from his poker game with Kid Blink, Skittery, Snoddy, Pie Eater, and Bumlets on the steps.

"...No-" he panted.

"Somethin' happen?" Blink asked.

Mush nodded.

"Well sit down and tell us."

Mush took a minute to catch his breath.

"Jack was blackmailed into quittin' the strike."

The six boys looked at him in disbelief.

"You sure?" Asked Blink.

"We all know Cowboy wanted to go to Santa Fe. How do you know he didn't just quit for easy money?" Skittery, always the skeptic added.

"Pulitzer tried to do the same to me. He told me Roselia could die if I couldn't afford to get her a doctor and he said if I didn't join, I'd end up in the refuge with yous."

He let the news sink in as he leaned his throbbing head against the wall.

"We ain't goin' to The Refuge." Racetrack whispered. Mush hadn't seen him this scared since they were young.

"What we supposed to do?" Blink sat down next to Mush.

"I don't know," said Mush. "But we gotta keep fightin'."


	20. Chapter 20

The next day was business as usual (or as much as it could be). David was once again on the front lines, glaring at Jack as he hauled his stack of one hundred papes past the crowd of angry newsies.

Story had slipped out again before Chase woke up. Her head wasn't hurting her as bad so it took her about half the time to arrive at the circulation building than it had the day before. She ran up to David as soon as she saw him.

"David!"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, clearly not pleased to see her.

"I wanted to know what was goin' on." she answered simply.

"You should be at home resting." The last thing David needed was another person to look after, even if he liked her a lot.

"But Dave, I wanted to see if I could help."

David laughed bitterly. "Yeah, and what could you do?"

"I don't know but I'm sure there's somethin' I could do. You could at least tell me what's goin' on and then maybe-"

David turned away from Story. "I don't need your help. Just go home already!"

Story turned and ran as she felt tears welling up. She didn't want anyone to see her after David so bluntly had rejected her. This was a David she didn't know. Sure she had only known him for a few days, but in that short time he had been kind to her. He wanted to know her story. And he cared about her and the other newsies throughout the strike even though he had a family he needed to help support. _He's just stressed out about the strike falling apart._ She thought. _That's all._ But Story really wasn't sure.

Story turned down a street when she saw Jack Kelly in his fancy new suit. She decided she would move the strike along even without David's support.

"Jack!" she called to him.

"What is it, Story?" He kept looking straight ahead.

"Why did you leave the strike?" Story blurted.

Jack turned to her, irritated, but he paused when he saw her face.

"What happened to you?" Jack saw the dark bruise and the black stitches that ran down Story's cheek. "Did that happen at the rally?"

Story nodded.

Jack turned back to the road, trying not to let the sight of the injured newsgirl throw him. "As soon as I make enough money I'm takin' the next train to Santa Fe, New Mexico and I'm gettin' outta this city once and for all."

"What? But why?" Story had to jog to match his fast walk. "It ain't fair that Pulitzer and Hearst are doin' this to us."

Jack sighed angrily. "'Course it ain't fair, but it's not like the strike was gettin' us anywhere. It just got you and the others hurt and starvin'."

"But Jack," Story said, starting to get a little dizzy. "It ain't over yet. If we could just-"

"We was beat from the beginning." Jack cut her off. "If Dave wants to be an idiot and throw away his family and everything he's got then he can do that. But I ain't gonna be responsible for any more a' yous gettin' hurt over ten cents." He walked even faster.

"Wait-" She was struggling to keep up. Her head was pounding again. Just then Story collapsed, colliding with a baker who dropped the tray of bread he was carrying.

Jack stopped. "Story?" but he was interrupted when he heard a girl's screaming from a nearby alley.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Jack's heart stopped. It was Sarah.

He glanced back down at Story. The baker could help her. But Sarah was in trouble.

Jack dropped his papes and ran down the street to the alley. He saw the Delancey brothers soaking David. Sarah and Les were in behind them, screaming. Oscar held David back while Morris pulled out brass knuckles.

Without another thought Jack punched Morris with all he had, throwing him into a pile of old crates and he turned back to the other Delancey.

"Get over here."

As David slipped out of Oscar's grip Jack grabbed Oscar.

"Remember Crutchy?" And he headbutted him. Oscar fell down next to his brother.

Jack helped Sarah up and he hugged her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she said as Jack released her. She went to her brother. "David!"

Oscar and Morris stood up again. "You'd better run, Cowboy. We're gonna tell

uncle Weas." Said Morris "You'll be back in the Refuge before suppertime!"

"Run, you lousy coward, run!" Oscar called over his shoulder as the Delancey brothers left the alley.

"Go on! Get outta here! Don't come back! You hear me?" Les chased the Delanceys out with his wooden sword.

The group turned back to David who was clutching his stomach.

"What, you couldn't stay away?" He said to Jack.

"Well I guess I can't be somethin' I ain't." said Jack.

"A scab?"

"No," Jack smiled. "Smart."

The four of them walked out of the alley. Suddenly, Jack remembered something.

"Oh, Story!" Jack said, running across the street.

"What?" David and the others followed after him.

Story was leaning against the doorway of a shop, surrounded by a few concerned looking bystanders.

"Story!" David touched her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, closing her eyes. "I just need a moment."

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

Story opened her eyes and gave him a small smile. "I told you I wanted to help."

Jack and Sarah suppressed a laugh as David gaped at her.

"Come on," said David as he grabbed Story's arm. "We have to get you back to Medda's. Right now." Without another word David practically dragged Story down the street, oblivious to the girl's blushing.

Jack stayed back a few paces with Sarah and Les, letting David take the lead.

* * *

When they got to Medda's house Chase ran to them (as well as she could with the crutch).

"Story, what happened? I was waiting for you all day!" she hugged her friend.

"It's ok, I just got caught up with somethin'."

"Hey'ya, Chase." Jack smiled.

"Jack!" she let go of Story and hobbled over to him. "I knew you wouldn't abandon us!" She couldn't say the same thing about Spot. Tears began flowing before she could stop them.

He pulled her into a hug, after staring at her crutch for a moment. "So this happened when I was gone. Who did that to you?"

Chase looked down. "It- It was Mr. Snyder. At the rally." She could feel Jack tense as he released her from the hug.

"Unbelievable." he whispered.

Chase and Story led the others to the parlor. The girls filled Jack in on what had happened during the rally while David updated them on news of the strike.

"Great." said Jack. "I'm gone for one day and it all falls apart. Thanks, Dave."

The others laughed a little, they could tell he was joking.

Jack went back to business. "So now what do we do? We just lost all our sway with the press since they stopped printin' strike news. Spot took Brooklyn with him..."

Chase crossed her arms and frowned as Jack mentioned the name of the Brooklyn leader.

"We still have Denton's article." Said Sarah. She rummaged in the pocket of her apron and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"What's this?" Jack reached for the paper. He cocked his head as he skimmed the words.

"What does it say?" asked Chase.

Jack read the article aloud for all of them to hear. Story closed her eyes and rested her head on David's shoulder as she listened.

 **Last night I saw naked force exercised against mere boys, the Newsies, who earn at best a few pennies a day. I wondered why so much, against so little.**

 **The wheels of this city are greased by the sweat and tears of an innocent army, the sad and voiceless army of children forced into child labor...**

Jack stopped reading and looked around at his friends. The room was silent, Denton's words were so powerful.

 **...Now the silent army begins to hear a voice in the shrill chants of the striking Newsies. And most clearly, ringing with hope and courage, is the voice of a single young man and that is what terrifies the powers-that-be, for they know our city thrives on the shame of child labor. Therefore, Jack Kelly's voice must be stopped at any cost…**

After Jack finished reading Denton's article, it had been easy for Sarah to convince him to confront Denton about it. David, on the other hand, was surprisingly more stubborn. Plus, he didn't want to leave Story again, for fear that something else would happen to her.

When Story fell asleep again, Jack and Sarah pressed him to leave.

"I'll keep an eye on her." Chase said. It was her turn to be the responsible one.

"Thank you." He said gratefully. "We'll update you on whatever happens next."

* * *

Spark and Spot talked for a little while. Neither of them could think of anything to do but keep striking and getting the newspapers' attention. He told her all about his night in jail with the rest of the newsies and the hearing that happened the next day. And he told her all about Chase and Story's conditions.

"Medda's takin' good care a' them now." he said.

"I bet Chase is out of her mind because she can't dance." Spark said, trying to lighten his mood.

"Yeah, probably." There was a long pause.

"Is Mush alright?"

"Yeah, he's- Oh yeah, he's your boy, ain't he?" Spot teased.

"We haven't gotten that far." Spark's blush was barely noticeable in the twilight.

"Yous both have been kinda busy lately." said Spot, "He'll come around once this mess is cleaned up."

"Maybe I should go to Manhattan tomorrow to see him- and Story and Chase, of course."

"No," Spot said, sitting up abruptly. "I'm stayin' here to pick up the pieces and I'm not lettin' you or any of the girls outta my sight. I'm not gonna have any more a' yous get hurt. Especially since those Delanceys are still out there." He remembered Spark had a run-in with them too.

"But I can-"

"No," Spot put his hand on her shoulder. "I realize how hard it is for you, not knowing what's goin' on. I wanna go back too, but like you said, we have a responsibility here."

Spark sighed, "Fine, I'll stay." She felt like a caged bird.

Spot fell asleep atop his throne, Spark was still one step below him. Thankfully it was a warm summer night.

She sent one of Spot's newsies to get some blankets from the girls' lodging house and to tell Ms. Casella she and the other girls were alright.

Spark stared up at the stars. She couldn't sleep. Not when there was her future to think about. She hadn't ever given much thought to her future. Actually, she never thought she even had a future. Spark took her life day by day, and the only life she'd known was that of a street rat. She couldn't see herself going any farther than that.

And then she met Mush and she felt like she was worth something. She was able to believe what he and Spot told her, that she was beautiful.


	21. Chapter 21

Jack, Sarah, David, and Les stood at Bryan Denton's office door. They could hear someone inside, presumably Denton, bustling around. After a moment Jack knocked on the door.

"Did you mean what you wrote here, 'bout all these sweatshop kids listenin' to me?" Jack said as soon as the door opened.

"I don't write anything I don't mean," said Denton. "Come on in, I'm just packing a few things."

The group entered Denton's office and David closed the door. "So yes, I mean it," Denton continued. "The city thrives on child labor. A lot of people make money that way. They're terrified that the newsies strike will spread."

"Well, there's really not much chance of that as long as they got the power." said Jack. Pulitzer and Hearst practically owned the city. As the owners of the two most popular newspapers, they controlled the news. They told the public what they "needed" to know and they left out the parts that they didn't. With "The Sun" printing strike news, people could finally see the tragedy that had befallen these poor newsboys. Once Pulitzer demanded a ban on strike news, the newsies' chance in the spotlight was over.

Denton looked Jack in the eye. "Sometimes, all it takes is a voice, one voice. Then a thousand. Unless it's silenced."

"Why can't we spread the strike? Have another big rally and get the word out to all the sweat shop kids? Why not?" Even though he had let them down, Jack was ready to face the newsies as their leader once more.

David already thought of a hundred reasons why Jack's ambitious plan wouldn't work. "What are we going to do? Print an ad in the newspaper?"

Jack turned to his friend. "No! We'll do better than that. We'll make our own paper. We tell 'em they gotta join us. Isn't that a good idea?"

David raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, it is. But what do we know about printing a newspaper?"

Jack countered. "Nothing, but our man Denton…"

"Yeah, but our man Denton has something more important to do." David smirked. "He's going to be an ace war correspondent, right Denton?"

Denton looked from David to Jack and smiled. "Alright. Where do we start?"

* * *

After David, Jack, and Denton edited Denton's article, Jack led the group to the basement of the circulation building.

"You've been living here?" Asked Sarah.

"Shh." said Jack. "They're right above us. Weasel catches us here we're all in the slammer."

Jack dragged a dusty old sheet off of some sort of contraption that took up half of the room, revealing it to be an old printing press.

"Alright! A Platen press." Said Denton. "Looks like old man Pulitzer never threw anything away."

"Is it going to work?" said David, staring at the old-fashioned machine.

"It better. We have a deadline."

It took the group a few hours to typeset Denton's short article. The boys couldn't imagine how long it had taken people to print whole newspapers back in the old days. By the time they finished, the articles would probably be old news! Thankfully they had come a lot farther along with their modern technology, with steam or electricity powering the press. Although that would hardly help Jack and David now. The platen was easy enough to use, and even though it had been sitting down in that basement for a long time it didn't make a lot of noise once it got going.

Jack, Sarah, David, and Denton all took turns working the press as Les slept in the corner. Before they knew it, the first light of day was beginning to show in the sky. They had to get out of there before Weasel and the boys woke up to start printing today's edition of "The World".

"I'll go get the guys," said David. Jack and Sarah had just begun bundling the papers with twine.

"Good luck, Davey." said Jack. With the way Jack had betrayed his friends, Dave would need it.

* * *

Mush, Race, Blink, and a lot of the older newsies had fallen asleep downstairs on the steps over a poker game. They were just waiting to see what David was going to do next.

Kloppman had just come out of his room to go over his files before waking up the boys.

The door crashed open and someone came in.

"Ahhhhhh!" Mush and several of the boys jolted awake, screaming.

"Oh, hey, sorry guys." It was David.

"Was that really necessary, Dave?" Racetrack said, trying to calm his shallow, frightened breaths. "You

gave us a heart attack."

"Sorry, again."

"What's goin' on, Davey?" Mush was ready for anything.

David glanced outside before slowly and silently closing the lodging house door. He turned back and motioned for the boys to gather on the steps.

"We're going to circulate Denton's article to all the sweatshop kids." He started. "Denton was right, New York thrives on child labor. If all the kids stopped working, imagine what that would do to this city."

"Everything would be brought to a halt." Mush's eyed widened with realization.

"And it would be all Pulitzer's fault." In the dim light if the morning, the boys could see a strangely devilish smile on David's face.

They woke up the younger newsies as quietly as possible (although none of them seemed ready to strike again. Skittery had to carry Tumbler and Boots out of the lodging house). They followed David to the back of the circulation building, knowing full well that they could blow everything with one sound. Dutchy, Specs, Racetrack, and Blink helped Denton push the borrowed newspaper cart to the basement window where Jack, Sarah, and Les smiled up at their friends.

Jack put a finger to his lips at the excited boys to remind them to be quiet. They were just happy to have him back.

Jack handed Mush the first bundle of papers which he passed down the line to the cart. This plan would work, Mush was sure of it.

They finished loading the cart in 15 minutes. Jack and David helped Sarah and the younger newsies into the now heavier cart and they pushed it down the street to be hooked up to Denton's horse. The group of newsboys followed the moving cart to the square as Jack gave the boys circulation assignments.

"You fellas ready?" He asked.

"Wait, Jack." David said.

"What now, Dave?"

"We have to go to Medda's first. I promised the girls I would tell them what was happening."

Jack nodded, "I think we can spare a few minutes for you and your girl." Jack punched him in the arm.

Mush spoke up, "I was kinds hoping the girls wouldn't get involved." There was no need for them to get hurt again.

"Get over it, Mush." Said Jack, "I know for a fact your sister's gonna make herself a part of this whether we like it or not."

Mush sighed. "Probably right."

"It's alright," David said, determined. At the moment the only one on his mind was Story. "We won't let them get hurt this time."

* * *

Story woke when she heard voices downstairs. There wasn't any light shining through the curtain. Who would be visiting at this hour? David.

She pulled on a robe over her nightgown and slid out the door, hoping Chase would stay asleep.

Downstairs, Medda was just letting the boys in.

"Story, " David said, pushing his way to the front. He took her hands. "Are-are you feeling any better?" He

could hear the newsies behind him whispering about the romance in the room.

"Yeah," she smiled. "What's going on?"

"We're spreading the strike to the sweatshops-"

Story gasped. "If we did that, that could-"

"And then Pulitzer would have to listen."

"Whoa!" Said Blink

"What are yous, mind readers?" Racetrack laughed.

Story and David blushed.

"Hey, Dave we better get goin'." Jack said.

"Oh, well I'm gonna get dressed. Be right back." She turned to go up the stairs.

"Don't take too long primping. We got a deadline here." Racetrack's comment was met with a smack on the back of the head from Jack.

Story tiptoed up the steps. From the looks Mush was giving her over David's shoulder, he really didn't want Chase to come.

Medda must have had someone buy her and Chase clothes because there were two full outfits: blouses, skirts, and stockings laid out on a chair with their shoes.

Story carefully slid out of her nightgown, slipping the blouse over her head.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah!" Story screamed.

"Oops, sorry." Chase sat up. "What's going on, something about the strike?"

Story sighed, there would be no convincing her to stay. "Yeah, the boys came up with a plan. I think it's gonna work."

Chase stood up, leaning on her crutch. "Is Spot with them?" She almost didn't want to know.

"No." Story whispered. She wished there was something she could do. "He'll come around, Chase. He said himself, he loves you."

Chase smiled a little but Story could see tears sparkling in her eyes.

"He doesn't matter right now." Said Chase. "Could you help me get dressed?"

About ten minutes later, the girls emerged from the guest room. After using the crutch for a few days, Chase had gotten the hang of walking. Story still had to help her down the steps.

Chase smiled at what she saw at the bottom: thirty newsboys taking off their hats for her and Story. That would never get old. She saw a few surprised reactions at the sight of her leg brace.

Mush rushed to her other side. "How is this gonna work?"

"I can walk fine, Nicholas." Mush could sense ice in her tone. Chase did not want to be treated this way, especially by her brother.

"But-"

"She can ride in the carriage with Sarah." Jack said.

"And I'll keep an eye on her for ya, Mush." Les jumped in front of Jack.

"Great idea, Les. You can be my escort for the day." She crossed the room and linked arms with the younger boy who blushed.

"Think these papes are going to be enough?" Story asked no one in particular when she saw the newspaper cart.

"They're gonna have to be," Jack said as he jumped in the cart. "We were printin' all night." Dark circles under his eyes were evidence of that.

Mush lifted Roselia into the cart, Jack grabbed her arm so she wouldn't fall.

"Are we goin' to circulate in Brooklyn?" Mush asked.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." Said Story.

"Yeah, you know how angry Spot was when he found out Jack was a scab." David added, looking nervous as ever.

"But you said yourself, Davey, if Brooklyn's with you guys, we'll be unstoppable. And the boys already listen to me with or without Spot." Chase smirked, she didn't need Spot's approval, especially after what he did to her.

"But you can't make that trip." Mush said. "And it's not like one of us could carry you across the bridge."

"Like I'd want you to-"

"And plus, the traffic on the Brooklyn bridge is crazy in the morning!"

Chase gasped.

"What is it?" Mush jumped.

"The traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge!"

"What about it?"

"What would happen if half the city couldn't get to work?"


	22. Chapter 22

Spark opened her eyes to what looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. The sun was rising, the birds were chirping, and she was snuggled next to Spot.

"Mornin' sunshine." He said. She was snuggled next to Spot?!

"Ahhhh!" She jumped.

"Someone was friendly last night." He laughed.

"I am so sorry." Spark blushed deeply. She was mortified.

"Nah, it's ok, it's warmer like that anyway." Spot said. "Just as long as Chase never finds out about this."

"No problem."

They looked up at the same time to the sound of someone running down the pier. Spot pulled out his cane and jumped down, Spark followed.

It was one of Jack's newsies, Kid Blink. The one with the eyepatch. He was carrying three bundles of what looked like papers.

"Has Jackie-boy come to his senses or are yous begging for me to come back?" Spot glared at Blink.

"Jack is back." Blink said. "And we need yous."

Spot pulled out his cane, examining it closely in a way that most newsies found intimidating (something the girls could never understand).

"I don't think I want to come back." He said in a calm but frightening tone. "Jackie-boy ruined it for yous. We can finish this strike right here in Brooklyn, just me and my boys."

"But-"

"I don't care about your plan! We don't need none of yous to help and we ain't givin' any neither." Spark knew Spot was angry if he couldn't even put an intelligent sentence together.

Blink stepped back at Spot's outburst, looking down uncomfortably. But he wasn't finished talking.

"Roselia had a plan too." He said softly.

Spot's attention snapped back to Kid Blink at the mention of Chase.

"What?"

Blink took a breath and faced Brooklyn's king.

"We're circulating these papes to all the sweatshop kids to see if they'll join the strike. It's Denton's article." He handed Spot a paper which he handed to Spark. "Rosie had an idea to stop traffic on the Brooklyn bridge. It's the main way to get into the city."

Spot turned and started climbing up to his throne.

"Go away, Blink."

"But-"

"I said BEAT IT!"

Kid Blink didn't need to be told again. He turned, a look of true despair on his face.

"Wait," Spark caught his arm. "I'll do something to help even if Spot won't."

He glanced up at the Brooklyn leader who was preoccupied at the moment.

"You won't get in trouble?"

"He doesn't own me. I can do what I want."

Blink lowered his voice so Spot wouldn't hear. "He doesn't try to beat yous girls, right?"

"No, he doesn't touch us, never. I'll be fine."

Blink thought for a moment and then resigned, sighing. "OK." He handed her two bundles of papers and went on his way back to Manhattan.

Spark exhaled deeply, looking down at the bundles of papers in her hands. She sat down in the middle of the dock and untied the twine and she read the article. The words, although plain and simple, touched Spark's heart in the deepest way. She had never cried reading a newspaper article before, but there was a first time for everything. It would be a crime to let such powerful words like these go to waste. The working kids of New York had to read this.

Spark quickly dried her tears and tromped up the scaffolding and crates where Spot was lounging.

"Could you get out of me way," Spot said to Spark. "You're blockin' the sun."

Spark rolled her eyes. "Read this." She thrust the paper into Spot's hands and jumped back down onto the dock, handing out more papers to the other newsies that were there that morning.

"Come on, fellas," Spark said to three of Spot's oldest newsies. "We're gonna finish this strike once and for all."

"But what'll Spot think?" One of them asked, looking up at the Brooklyn leader who was already enthralled in the article.

"It don't matter." Spark said. "What do yous think? Are you gonna let Pulitzer and Hearst keep beatin' us or are yous gonna fight with me?"

The three boys glanced back down at their papers. "Alright," one of them said.

"Makes no difference whether Pulitzer kills us or Spot does, anyway." said another.

Spark smiled. "Now you're talkin'. Come on, we gotta get the little ones up. Chase had an idea so brilliant I think it'll work."

Spark and the three newsies turned down the dock to leave.

"And where do yous think you're goin'?" Spot called from his throne.

The boys turned around, avoiding eye contact with Spot.

Spark, however, did not. She crossed her arms as Spot jumped down to them. "We're givin' this strike another shot." she said.

"Oh yeah," Spot got into Spark's face but she didn't waver. "Who says? I don't recall givin' out orders." Spot had read the article and it was pretty good, but was it enough to beat the big shots? It was hard to say.

"Didn't have to," said Spark.

"And why's that?" Spot's icy glare froze the three older newsboys in their places.

Spark smirked. "Because the queen said so." She turned on her heel, pushing the three scared newsies along.

Spot gaped at them, watching them go. He was losing his power to a little girl. _No,_ he thought, _I'm losing to Chase._ Spark was just the messenger at this point. Spot shook his head. It's not like he had a choice anymore. Chase had stolen his heart and his crown all in one go. Even from so far away her opinions affected him.

"Wait up for your king," said Spot, calling after the small group.

Spark turned and smiled. "Get the lead outta your pants then, will ya?"

* * *

It took about two hours for the newsies to circulate their papers to the sweatshop kids of New York. They had even gotten as far as Jersey in that short amount of time. It was hard to say whether the kids took their story to heart. And they weren't sure if anyone would join. But the strike put 5,000 children out of work. 5,000 reasons to try.

The Manhattan newsies returned to an empty square. The boys helped Chase out of the newspaper cart and lifted her up to sit on the statue. They were all exhausted and it wasn't even 8:00 yet.

"Think they'll listen?" Skittery broke the silence, voicing what they were all thinking.

"Yeah, why wouldn't they?" Chase asked.

"We're just kids. We have no business strikin' like this."

Chase kicked his shoulder with her good leg. "It's too late to back down now. This is war, do it or die."

"I'm not ready." he looked up at her a little nervous.

Story, who was standing next Skittery punched him in the arm. "Better to die than to crawl." She attempted to smile.

The group turned as they heard footsteps approaching. It was Kid Blink, back from Brooklyn.

Mush jumped down from his seat on the statue. "When are the others comin', Kid?" He asked anxiously.

Blink opened his mouth but it was Jack who spoke first. "They ain't comin'. It ain't gonna be no one but us."

"Have hope, Jack." Specs said. And a few other boys patted him on the back to cheer him up.

Story looked at David, his expression was almost hopeless.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "This ain't over yet."

He looked at her with a pained smile on his face.

"Ugh! Really, you guys." Chase scoffed. "You have to stay positive or we'll never win this!"

"Hey," Racetrack stopped her. "Hey, hey, look!" He pointed down the street.

People were coming. Not just a few people, hundreds. Hundreds of kids carrying picket signs and the papers the newsies had printed. Kids from the sweatshops and factories, kids from the laundry and the mills. The blacksmiths, the shoe shiners, the tailors. All of them came to support the strike.

"BROOKLYN!" Came a voice from another street. Spot Conlon, with Spark skipping beside him, led the Brooklyn newsies into the square.

"He's back." Story said, trying decode Chase's cryptic expression.

Without saying a word, Chase jumped down from her perch. She sauntered (as best as she could with the crutch) over to the curb where she met the Brooklyn leader.

"Spot Conlon," Her expression stayed neutral, just a hint of haughtiness in her tone.

"Chase Meyers,"

"You said you wouldn't leave me."

Calm as she was, everyone could sense Chase's anger. Faster than lightning, Chase raised her arm to backhand him. Just as quickly Spot caught her wrist and gripped it tightly. He grabbed a handful of her hair with the other hand.

Chase flinched, just barely, but Spot's move surprised her. She still stood strong, glaring up at him.

Spot was shocked himself. He had never laid a hand on Chase or any of the girls before. He didn't know what came over him.

The two of them paused, simply staring into each other's eyes. Tension high in the air. Spot could sense another emotion, other than loathing, in Chase's eyes. She looked hurt, and the unshed tears that sparkled in the corners of her eyes were another indication.

They were at an impasse. He could hurt her pretty badly if he really tried. And Spot knew she could do quite a number on him despite the crutch and brace. He'd taught her well, even though she'd never needed to fight. They were matched perfectly.

Spot's mouth turned up into a smirk. "Then I guess we're even."

Without waiting a beat, Spot entwined his fingers in her hair and brought her face closer to his and he finally kissed her beautiful lips.


	23. Chapter 23

After Spot and Chase's moment, Spark came between them and hugged her friend.

"I knew you two would be perfect for each other." she whispered.

"Everyone knew that except you two." Story said coming up from behind.

Chase and Spot both blushed.

Their friends gathered around to congratulate them.

"Did you guys do what I asked you to do?" Chase asked, anxious to know whether her plan had worked.

"Yeah, Chase, you shoulda seen it!" Spark exclaimed, fully living up to her name. "All kinds a' carriages stopped for our kids, the traffic was backed up for miles on both sides. In a few more hours, the line will probably be all the way down to Central Park."

"How did you get back here?"

"I got connections." Spot interjected, proudly crossing his arms.

"He bribed the ferry guy." said Spark.

Chase raised an eyebrow. "By bribed do you mean threatened?"

"Maybe."

"Hey, what do we have here?" Racetrack looked toward New York World building and the others followed his gaze.

Mr. Seitz was just arriving to work, trying to push through the crowd of rallying children.

"You two should probably go in there." Denton directed to Jack and David.

"Yeah, come on, Dave." Jack said, already making his way across the street.

David hesitated.

"You'll do great," Story encouraged him. "break a leg."

His eyes widened with alarm.

"It means 'good luck'." She added quickly.

"Alright, if I don't come out of there alive-"

"Come on Dave!" Jack shouted.

Story hugged David, burying her face in his chest. "I know you can do this."

The rest of the newsies followed Jack and David to The World building. Including Spot.

"That boy!" Chase pouted, he left her standing out on the curb without considering that she wouldn't be able to make it through the crowd.

"I'm gonna go find Mush." Spark said. Somehow Mush had been separated from the group, probably when all of the kids filled the square.

Chase nodded halfheartedly at Spark. Story put her arm around Chase's shoulders when she saw the look on her friend's face. She knew just what she was thinking.

"Spot's an idiot." Story said.

Chase looked up at her abruptly. A few days ago the timid newsgirl wouldn't dare say anything like that about Brooklyn's king. Story giggled and blushed, realizing that she'd said what she was thinking aloud.

"You're right." Chase laughed with her. "But I can't help loving him anyway."

* * *

After about twenty minutes Spark still could not find Mush anywhere. And she was tiring of pushing past people. She shoved her way back to the statue where there were a few less people and more room to breathe.

She leaned up against a tree, trying to figure out what to do next. Staying in one spot would probably have been the best move in the first place. Then they wouldn't have had to chase each other around the square. Spark couldn't do anything about that now.

She sighed, kicking the tree trunk. _Ah ha_ , she thought. She would be able to see better if she climbed the tree. It was so obvious, she'd spent (practically) her whole life as a newsie, spying on people. It was her job as a bird. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

Without a second delay, Spark climbed the tree to the highest branch that would support her weight, careful not to disturb a robin's nest in a lower branch.

She looked over the crowd. Chase was at the curb near the base of the statue next to Story, her sister's bright red tresses sparkled in the morning sun. Up toward The World building were some Manhattan newsies she thought she recognized Racetrack with his fancy patterned vest, Kid Blink whose outfit nearly matched Mush's, Skittery who towered over most, and she also saw Spot and his blue shirt and contrasting red suspenders. But still no sign of Mush.

A hush went over the mob suddenly as the doors opened. Spark stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward to see Jack and David emerge from the building. That was all she hat time to see because she lost her balance and tumbled out of the tree. She braced herself to impact the hard cobblestones, but instead she landed on a person.

"I am so sorry!" Spark jumped up, brushing herself off. This was the second time she'd fallen on top of someone from a tree. This usually doesn't happen." She picked up her own hat, along with the stranger's and made to hand it to whoever it was.

Her eyes met the newsboy's warm brown eyes as he smiled.

"Is this gonna be a regular thing or what?"

"Mush!" He pulled her into his arms.

"I been missin' ya." He said.

"Me too," Spark could feel tears coming. "I haven't stopped thinkin' about you."

"Me neither."

Mush slowly leaned in, Spark did the same. Their faces were mere inches from each other, their eyes locked.

Spark pulled away. "We should, um, go see what's goin' on up there. " She could feel the heat coming to her cheeks.

Mush tried not to feel stung. He didn't say another word as he followed Spark up to the doors.

* * *

Story resisted the urge to run to David as he exited "The World" building. "Do you think it'll be ok if I go see what's-"

"Yeah, whatever," Said Chase. It's not like she could have done anything to prevent her from leaving anyway. "I'll be waiting here..."

Story smiled. "Thank's Chase!"

Story pushed her way through the pressing crowd to Jack Kelly's newsies. With a little effort she made it to David's side. Her heart was pounding. By the expressions on David and Jack's faces, Story didn't know what to expect.

"David." She grabbed his hand. He didn't speak. Story watched as Jack whispered something in Les' ear before putting him on his shoulders.

"WE BEAT 'EM!" Jack exclaimed. The entire crowd cheered much louder than they yelled "Strike!"

Story hugged David, jumping up and down at the same time. "I knew we could do it!" Then she ran and hugged her Spark. Mush and David smiled at the two girls' excitement as they, too, joined in the cheering. The crowd's roars were practically deafening.

In the midst of the celebrating, a black carriage with barred windows parted the crowd.

"Hey Jack, it's the bulls!" Les cried. "It's the bulls, let me down."

Spot looked up and saw that the young boy was right. It was the carriage belonging to Warden Snyder. He had seen in in Brooklyn a lot, usually parked near Chase's former boarding school. She didn't know it, but Spot kept a close eye on that area of town. He was even friends with a few of the maids that worked there. As King of Brooklyn, Spot wanted to make sure no other girls there were violated (or almost violated, in Chase's case) a the hands of Snyder.

"Oh, no."

Instead of running away like Jack and the other newsies, Spot ran toward the carriage. He realized he'd, once again, left Chase unattended.

"LET ME THROUGH!" He yelled, trying to push through the current of people. He couldn't get by.

* * *

Chase froze as the black carriage stopped right in front of her. She knew whose carriage it was. She had to be strong. He wouldn't scare her this time.

The back doors opened and out jumped a few working boys. They joined the celebration, trying to find their friends.

Then Snyder, being escorted by two police officers, came around the back. When he recognized her he did a double take.

"Rosie!" He stepped toward her, trying to get escape the officers. "Rosie, do you see what they're doing to me?"

Chase held onto her crutch for dear life. All she wanted was for this man to disappear from her existence forever. She glared and tried to keep the tears from coming. She wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing her like that.

"You can't let them do this to me." Snyder smiled what he thought was an innocent smile. "You know I'm not a bad man!"

It was too much for her. She pulled back as far as she could, just to get away from him. Before she could do anything else, a tall boy with curly, brown hair, wearing his hat backwards stepped in front of her.

"Ah, remember what I told ya, Mr. Snyder." He said sweetly. "The first thing ya do in jail, make friends with the rats. Share what you got in common."

Snyder stood dumbfounded as the officers pushed him into the back of the carriage.

The boy turned to Chase.

"You ok, miss?" He took off his hat with his free hand. The other was helping him lean on a crutch, just like Chase. "He didn't try to hurt you or nothin'?"

"I'm fine." The boy's smile was infectious. "You must be Crutchy. I've heard a lot about you."

He blushed. "Aww, miss."

"I'm Chase, by the way."

"Nice to meet ya, Miss Chase." Crutchy bowed, putting some of the most proper gentlemen of New York to shame.

"Maybe you can teach me how to walk with this thing." Chase tapped on her crutch and looked down sheepishly. "I'm kind of new at this."

"Sure," said Crutchy. He turned back to the carriage. "Uh, officer? If I may?" Crutchy slammed the prison carriage door, mischievously smiling at Mr. Snyder who stared through the bars.

"Hey, Crutchy." said Chase.

"Uh, yes?"

Chase stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Crutchy's cheek. Several newsies in the crowd cheered rather loudly.

Crutchy turned bright red. "Um, i-if you'll excuse me, Miss Chase, I- uh, I gotta go tell the guys somethin'." With that Crutchy slapped his hat back on his head and ran as fast as he could manage to Jack and the rest of the Manhattan newsies. Crutchy was received by his friends with much excitement.

"Hey'ya, Crutchy." Said Jack. Crutchy beamed.

Denton nodded at the departing carriage. "You won't be seeing much of him anymore. Say goodbye Warden."

All the newsies called different (and mostly rude) variations of "Goodbye Warden!". It was very satisfying.

"Oh, Jack, you shoulda seen it! He comes stormin' into the Refuge waving his walking stick like a sword and he's leading in this army of lawyers and cops." Crutchy animated.

"Who comes stormin' in?" Jack asked.

"You know, your friend. Him!" Crutchy pointed across the street. "Teddy Roosevelt!"

All the newsies stood, practically speechless. There he was, Governor Teddy Roosevelt, smiling and waving and tipping his hat to all of the working kids of New York.

"The Governor's very grateful that you brought this problem to his attention." Denton said as he turned to Jack. "I said you might need a lift somewhere. He'd be happy to oblige. Anywhere you want. And this time, you ride inside."

Without a second thought, Jack spoke. "So, can he drop me at the train yards?"

"Yeah, if that's what you want."

Mush's face fell. He looked down at Spark who was frowning as well.

"Where's he gonna go?" she asked.

"He's always been talkin' about goin' out West since forever now. I never thought he would actually go." Mush sighed sadly. One of his best friends, the guy who gave him his nickname, was leaving for good. "Pardon me," He sniffed. "I've always been sensitive." Spark put her arm around Mush.

Someone grabbed Jack's few possessions from the lodging house as he said his goodbyes. He could only look at Sarah and David and Les once. He knew he would break down if it was more than that.

The newsies watches as he jumped into Roosevelt's carriage, waving to them all.

* * *

The crowd started to dissipate for about a second, to Chase's dismay. She'd have to limp all the way back to Medda's by herself. There was no way she could make it back home to Brooklyn in the state she was in. She hoped she could remember the way. This side of Manhattan was unfamiliar territory to her.

Suddenly everyone stopped and stared at an open carriage that was rounding the corner. Sitting inside was Jack.

He stood up when he saw her. "Hey, Chase!"

"Hey, Jack." She smiled. "And Mr. Governor, sir." when she noticed Teddy Roosevelt sitting across from her friend. "Where are you going?"

"Santa Fe, New Mexico. I'm finally living my dream!"

Chase smiled. "I told you it would get better!"

"Yeah, you were right."

Chase could feel the tears coming. She had only known Jack for a short amount of time but she felt like she'd known him her whole life. "I'll miss you."

"Me too," Jack's smile faded a little. "Hey, maybe when I come back in a few years you'll be a star on the Great White Way."

"You better." Chase got excited at the thought of her future. "And don't forget to write!"

The carriage started to move again.

"Bye, Chase!" Jack waved.

"Goodbye, Jack!"


	24. Chapter 24

The circulation bell rang.

"You ready for this?" Mush asked Spark.

"Yeah," It was going to be strange to get back to their regular lives. "I gotta find me a good sellin' spot."

Mush smiled. "Try Bottle Alley or the harbor."

"Try Central Park, it's guaranteed." Racetrack added.

Spark laughed and punched her two friends in the arms.

Story joined David, Sarah, and Les. David didn't even acknowledge her arrival. He just stared at the ground. Les and Sarah were both crying.

Story came between the two older siblings and put her arms around them. Les hugged her around the waist. Tears started streaming down Story's face. It hurt her to see the people she loved in pain. And even though she hadn't really gotten to know Jack, she would miss him.

"It's gonna be- it's gonna be better now. Jack's happy on his way to Santa Fe. And-and we'll be ok without him." She smiled sadly, trying to cheer the Jacobs siblings up. "And hey, Davey. This means you're leader of Manhattan now."

He looked at her for a second and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, giving her a small smile."I guess you're right. We better go get some papes while they still got some."

All of the boys stepped aside for David to get to the front. He really was their new leader now, whether he liked it or not. He had to be strong for them, so as David took his place in line in front of Mush, he held his head high. He reminded himself, it was going to be a fine life.

His smile grew and he held up the quarter in his hand proudly. "Hundred papes." And he slammed it on the counter.

"All right, Davey." Mush pat him on the back.

David took his stack of papers. The roar of a crowd echoed down the street.

"I thought everyone went home." Spark said to Story.

The two girls stepped out from their place behind Mush and looked out the gates.

"Move!" Story yelled, a carriage was pulling through the gates, followed by a mob of newsies from various boroughs. The sisters ducked back in line, narrowly missing being run over.

"Close one," Racetrack smirked.

"Shut it, Race." Spark stuck her tongue out at him.

"You guys-" Story stopped when she saw who was in the carriage.

"Dave, he's back!" Mush exclaimed.

Jack had been dreaming of going to Santa Fe forever. The newsies expected he would leave them one day, but they hadn't expected him to come back so soon.

Jack stood up with open arms. "You knew I wouldn't leave you guys!"

The newsies swarmed around the carriage, all clamouring to see Jack.

Jack turned to Roosevelt. "Thanks for the advice, Governor. Like you said, I still got things to do. Besides, I got family here." He hugged Les who had hopped into the carriage and handed him his Cowboy hat. Jack looked to David. "So, how's the headline today?"

"Headlines don't sell papes," David put on his hat. "Newsies sell papes."

"Come here Davey."

The boys spit into their hands, as per the newsies' customary handshake. The other newsies cheered even more.

"Welcome back." Spot nodded at Jack. Unlike the rest of the newsies, Spot remained cool, keeping up his normally haughty demeanor.

"I'm so grateful you approve, 'Your Highness'." Jack snorted.

"How about 'Your Eminence'?"

"How about 'Your Arrogance'?"

Mush stepped between Jack and Spot and smacked them him the head ."Yous are ruining a perfectly good reunion."

The two newsie leaders both crossed their arms and stared him down.

"S-sorry."

Sarah parted the crowd to hug Jack, instead he leaned in for a kiss. All the boys cheered. Story and Spark smiled at each other, secretly jealous. Two of their friends had been kissed for the first time (willingly) and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Newsies, hit the streets!" Said Jack after the kiss was over, he was still blushing a little. "The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain't gettin' any younger!" Several newsies laughed. It was back to business already. "Hey, Spot," Jack smiled knowingly. "I think you forgot somethin'."

Spot rolled his eyes. "I don't never forget anythin'- Oh, you're right!"

Story laughed as Spot fought his way through the crowd again. "Wanna get outta here?" She asked David .

"Yeah," he took her hand and they exited the gates, no problem.

* * *

Chase hadn't left her spot at the curb. Not that she really could, but she wanted to. Her feet were starting to hurt and she was tired. She was trying to figure out how she was going to sell papes for the next few months. Pity could work, she thought.

Chase looked up when she heard the sound of horses on cobblestones. She thought Jack already left.

It was Roosevelt's carriage again, but Jack wasn't the other passenger. Instead, Spot sat across from the governor, smiling his cavalier smile. Deep in his bright blue eyes, Chase could see the little boy in him loving every moment of it, feeling like a real king.

The carriage stopped right in front of her.

"M'lady," Spot stood, offering her his hand.

Chase stood there speechless for a second, smiling the prettiest smile Spot had ever seen. "I can't-" she said.

"Oh, sorry." It was going to take everyone a long time to get used to Chase's brace. Spot thought for a second. "I got it!"

He jumped down from the carriage and took her crutch. He then picked Chase up and slung her over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" She giggled.

"Gettin' you into the carriage- stop squirming, will ya?"

"Of all the ways, Spot!" She screamed, partially out of glee and partially out of alarm when she saw how close the ground was. Spot wasn't a very tall guy.

"Ahh!" Spot yelled as Chase (accidentally) kicked him in the stomach.

"Sorry," Chase had to hold back a laugh.

It took another minute for the two of them to actually get in the carriage. Spot sat her down next to him and put his arm around her.

Chase smoothed out her disheveled hair.

"Governor," Said Spot, his imperious smirk returning to his face. "I'd like you to meet my girl, Miss Chase- excuse me, Roselia Meyers."

"Spot's told me an awful lot about you, Roselia." The Governor smiled amiably.

"Oh, he has?" She looked at Spot.

"Only the good stuff." He reassured her.

"Where to, Governor?" Asked the carriage driver.

"I don't know, where do you kids want to go?"

Spot thought for a second. "Driver," he commanded. "Take us to see our city."

"Our city?" Chase turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it ain't just mine anymore." Spot said. "Anyway, what's a king without his queen?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, Chase leaned over and kissed him. He had never said anything like that before.

"Wow," he sat stunned for a second and then shook it off. "To Brooklyn!"

* * *

Mush and Spark were two of the last newsies out of the circulation gates.

"So, you wanna find a good spot?" Mush asked.

"I think I already got one." She smiled.

Mush frowned, disappointed. "Oh, well then, if you're ok I guess I could go now..." But he really didn't want to.

"What do you mean, go?" Spark grabbed his hand. "Come on!"

The two of them ran through the busy Manhattan streets, Spark in the lead. They ducked through narrow alleys and dodged carriages and people on their way to work. Spark would look back at Mush every few minutes and smiled. Mush smiled himself, Spark was something else.

Finally they got to Central Park. But they didn't stop. Avoiding all of the paths, Spark led him to a tree that grew near a bench. A pleasant spot to sit on a sultry summer day.

The two of them stood under the tree, looking up into the spreading branches. Mush felt like he'd been here before, in this exact spot.

"Remember this?" Spark started climbing the tree.

"Yeah," Mush nodded suddenly, when he realized why this was so familiar. "This is where we met, ain't it?"

"Yup, almost two weeks ago." Mush lifted Spark onto a lower branch.

"Seems like forever." He followed Spark up into the tree and sat next to her, on the branch she chose. "What a crazy two weeks."

Without warning, Spark kissed Mush on the mouth, savoring it for a second, until she pulled back and leaned her head against the tree trunk.

Mush stared at her, completely stunned. "Where the heck was that this mornin'?"

"I- I wasn't ready- for it." She stammered, blushing.

Mush brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. He laughed. "I love you, Spark. Ya know that?"

She smiled. "Yeah..." And they kissed again.

* * *

 **A/N: And that was "Five Thousand Reasons To Try". I hoped you enjoyed my take on "Newsies". It's interesting to note that this story was (somehow) originally 32 chapters long. I think my chapters were much shorter back then because there were a few missing scenes here and there but I think I remembered the story well enough to rewrite them. I'm not super happy with all of them, but what can you do?** **Even though it was a bit annoying to fit all of these chapters back together from the old emails I had saved, it was really fun to kind of relive writing this. I really love these characters I created and I hope you liked reading about them. Look out for my sequel, "New York Underworld", which should be coming out shortly. It's a bit of a mystery that takes place a few months after the strike. All of your favorite characters return and I even introduced a few new ones (I know, I write waaaay too many characters for my own good). Thank you for reading my story and review or comment. I really like to hear feedback on my stories! xoxoxoxoxo**


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